


Saviour's Salvation

by Belle_Lestrange101



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Harry, Baby Harry Potter, Baking, Courtroom Drama, Day At The Beach, Draco Malfoy Angst, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Family, Family Bonding, Harry Potter was Raised by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, M/M, Malfoys on trial, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Remus Lupin Lives, Sharing a Bed, Sirius Black Lives, Summer, Summer Vacation, Teacher Remus Lupin, Teacher Sirius Black, Therapy, baby cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 64,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Lestrange101/pseuds/Belle_Lestrange101
Summary: Two months after the war and Harry is struggling to cope with life. Having faced his mortality, and being plagued by incessant nightmares from the battle, he becomes a recluse as Summer gets underway. One day he is left to his own devices and finds an old potions textbook which may have the answer he needs. He decides to take drastic actions to relive the childhood he and Sirius never got to share.After the war, Draco was acquitted for most of his crimes, and is released on house arrest under the care of an appointed guardian. Having his magic suppressed and monitored is one thing, but his Mother's cousin was an entirely different matter.How is he going to cope when he has to live at Grimmauld Place with his cousin, Sirius Black, a baby Potter and no magic![Rating will change in later chapters]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovelies! Yes, it's happening, another Drarry story at last! I've been working on this idea for months now and have always wanted to write this style of story, so it's definitely a long time coming!
> 
> The rating will slowly climb as the chapters progress, but I think for now, rating it a 'T' for some imagery and naughty language, is okay.
> 
> I will try to update this story as often as I can, however I do also need to finish off at least one other fic, so please bear with me. I have been having a lot of medical tests done lately, so you know, fanfic is just for fun but I do adore it! I won't want to tease your little heads too much!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by JK Rowling.
> 
> Enjoy! x

_ **Prologue** _

 

 

 

Harry bolted upright in bed drenched in sweat.

There was a loud noise ringing in his ears.

It was only after a few moments that he realised he was screaming. Hunching over, he pressed his face into his knees and starting hyperventilating just as his bedroom door shot open. Sirius stumbled clumsily into the room, settling on the edge of the four-poster bed and wrapped his arms around his trembling godson. His skin was flushed and damp, wet breaths rasping through the dark. They didn't need to talk. This had become somewhat of a routine for them since the war ended two months ago, in May. Sirius held his godson, staring vacantly at the windows as his tired brain caught up with him.

He didn't hold it against Harry for the nightmares.

He still had them himself.

It had even gotten to the point where Harry had bought his godfather an enchanted night-light; it was designed to dim when the person fell asleep, and to turn different soothing colours based on their emotional state whilst sleeping. It had been doing the trick for the last couple of weeks. It didn't absolve everything, of course, but at least he didn't wake up as Harry did; drenched in sweat, screaming and trembling with fear.

Harry hiccoughed.

Sirius continued to rub his back, his cheek leaning on his godson's head. Harry drew in deep breaths, the warm weight of Sirius calming the frenzied mess in his head.

"Was it him again?" Sirius asked in a low voice.

Harry shuddered and shook his head. "Not this time," he choked. He drew in another deep breath. "I was in the cave again ..."

A tear dripped onto Sirius' forearm. He held the teen tighter. "You've gone through so much, Harry. I never wanted this for you but I am so proud of what you did."

"Don't ..."

"Don't what?"

"Don't be proud ... of that."

Sirius pressed his lips together and nodded. He understood. "Alright, do you think you can walk?" he asked after a few moments. Harry nodded. "Good. You're coming upstairs."

"Sirius -"

"No arguments."

Harry resigned himself to his fate as he swung his legs over the end of the bed and stiffly followed Sirius out of his room.

The floorboards creaked as they climbed the stairs to Sirius' room. Hugging his arms tightly around himself, Harry flinched at the dull gold light creating swirling patterns on the ceiling of Sirius' room. It instantly calmed the frayed nerves inside him. Sirius padded over to the covers strewn over on one side of the bed and climbed back under them. Harry closed the door and followed suit on the other side. Sirius levitated the night-light onto Harry's side of the room.

"Sirius I really don't need the light."

"It's for one night, Harry. I'll be fine."

Harry felt relief swell in his chest. Burrowing down into the soft, cool pillows he was overwhelmed by the aroma of his godfather. It was comforting. A welcomed relief especially as his bones stilled seemed to ache after all the walking, fighting and running.

Harry stiffened when Sirius turned onto his side and grabbed him around the waist, dragging him over the mattress so that he was lying with his chest against Harry's back. Tears rushed to Harry's eyes but he blinked them away. Snuggling deeper into the pillows, he watched the swirling lights gently dim before his eyes.

He drifted off to sleep within moments.

 

 

 

The following day Harry woke up to the sounds of Sirius pottering around in their muggle kitchen. It was something that Sirius had insisted on having since Harry only knew how to cook with non-magic appliances anyway, so it made sense for them. By the time he stumbled down into the kitchen, Sirius was dishing up the eggs, toast and bacon with two large mugs of tea. Raking a hand through his hair he sat down at the rickety old table and chairs.

"What time is it?" he asked, reaching for his mug.

"Just after eleven," Sirius said. "There we are!" He set both loaded plates onto the table with a satisfied grin. Harry could almost see the tail wagging. The man was too canine-like for his own good sometimes.

"Why did you let me sleep so late?"

Sirius shot his godson a perplexed look. "Harry you had a rough night. It's summer holidays. You have nothing to do right now. Just take some time to relax."

"I have a lot to do," Harry grunted. "I have all those trials to attend, and funerals and the charity rubbish."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he skewered a rasher of bacon on the end of his fork. "No offence, kid, but those funerals and fundraisers are going to happen whether you're there or not. Sure, you defeated that snake-faced bastard, but you're not responsible for everyone else's closure. Everything is still so raw and painful -these people will understand."

Harry frowned down at his food. He picked at it, his stomach churning with nerves. It took a great deal for him to work up the energy to eat at all, but he couldn't let Sirius' breakfasts go to waste. They were the little kick he needed to function throughout the day. His hand trembled a little as he focused on chewing, swallowing and breathing. If Sirius noticed, he didn't comment. Harry was grateful for that.

He finished off his food and took his plate to the sink.

"What do you think you'll do today?" Sirius asked.

Harry froze in the doorway. "I ... I don't know. I was just going to do some reading."

"Don't you want to go and see Ron and the others at the burrow?"

He felt his shoulders stiffen. "Uh ... No, I don't really feel in the mood for it. Besides, Ron and Hermione always want to sneak off and be alone so ... "

Sirius gave an understanding smile. "That's fair enough I suppose. Do you want to come with me to visit Remus and Teddy?"

"Um ..."

"Or, would you prefer to stay home?"

Harry gave a trembling smile and inclined his head. "I'd rather stay."

Sirius sighed. "You can't hide away for ever, Harry."

"I know," Harry ground out. "Just ... for now, okay?"

For the rest of the day, whilst Sirius was out for a play-date with Remus and Teddy, Harry couldn't do anything except for going into the Black Family library on the second floor, and going through the dusty old tomes to look for anything to occupy his mind. He ended up carrying a couple of the thick books back up to his room and sprawled out on the bed, leafing through each one, reading a couple of chapters that piqued his interest before moving onto the next.

Despite himself he found his interest creeping up as he leafed through a potions textbook. It wasn't necessarily old, published in the mid twentieth century, but the sheer neglect of the house still left numerous artefacts layered in dust. As he thumbed through the copy, he came across something that caught his eye. In that moment, everything seemed to click in his head. It would help him not to deal with the horrible, crushing weight of life after the war. The emptiness of knowing that he still had to go on, to study, to get a job and become a functional member of society.

However, hadn't he done enough of that?

He'd been standing up for the entire wizarding world -alone -and he still had to do things for them? He was just one boy. Hadn't he done enough by now?

Running a hand down his face, he sighed.

He needed to talk to Sirius as soon as he got home.

Thankfully, that moment came all too soon.

Harry was in the kitchen and was heating up the oven for dinner when the man sauntered in from the living-room, the roar of the Floo Network dying away in the background. Sirius always seemed to have a glowing aura about him when he returned from seeing Remus. It was as though being around his old friend was one of two rays of sunshine in the older man's life.

"What're you reading there?" Sirius called from the hallway.

"Just an old potions book from upstairs."

"Of all things to spend a nice day like this doing, and you're reading a  _potions_  book?"

Harry didn't even smile.

Sirius sat down at the table, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. "What's this really about, Harry?"

Turning the book towards his godfather, Harry pointed at the potion he'd been looking into. "This caught my eye earlier. I've been doing some reading and it seems to revert the drinker to a younger version of themselves."

"A shrinking solution?" Sirius frowned. "Harry, you don't need to experiment with things like this."

"Why not?" Harry asked, looking up at his guardian. "This could be just what I  _need_."

Sirius skimmed the cramped print on the old pages and felt a weight twist in his stomach. He pressed his lips together. "Harry, if this isn't brewed correctly you could be poisoned."

"Or it could give me the childhood I never had," Harry stated with a desperate plea in his voice. "I could have that with  _you_."

Sirius rubbed at his temples, ignoring the swell of affection and anxiety in his heart. This wasn't a decision to take lightly. Not to mention, Remus would skin him alive if he found out Sirius had been a part of it. He couldn't deny that he was tempted. All he'd ever wanted was to get out of Azkaban and provide his godson with the wizarding family-life he'd always wanted. His fingers skimmed along the old, crackling page and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn't impossible.

In fact, he was very adept at brewing potions. He'd be able to make this one easily enough. Just ... did he really wanted to deal with the repercussions of Harry's rash decisons?

The poor kid had  _suffered_.

There was no denying that.

One of the healer's at St. Mungo's had insisted it was the worst case of PTSD they'd seen in someone so young. There hadn't been any medication they could offer other than therapy for Harry to attend twice a week. If nothing else, the therapy had made the nightmares worse. No amount of anger on Sirius' part had been able to make the healer's see that.

He'd pulled Harry out instantly and didn't need to be convinced that the teen wouldn't be going back.

Refocusing on the text before him, Sirius sighed and straightened up a little in his chair. His curls swayed as he rubbed at his jaw with one hand. If Harry was serious about this then he would need time to brew the potion correctly. That would at least give the teen time to change his mind if he so wished.

"If I go to Diagon Alley and buy these ingredients, bearing in mind it will take a little while to brew, will you tell me if you change your mind?" Sirius asked.

"Of course!"

Sirius still felt apprehensive, but he didn't want to discourage Harry. Not when he had that hopeful gleam in his eyes for the first time in two months. It was enough to soften Sirius' doubt, if only for a moment. "Okay," he conceded, "We'll get the things we need."

Harry's face relaxed into the easiest smile. It had been months since Harry had had such a calm demeanour. Sirius wanted to do everything in his power to keep his godson as calm and content as possible.

This potion was in his power -maybe this was something he  _needed_  to do.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Three weeks later, Harry woke up from an afternoon nap to find a phial of acid green liquid waiting for him on his bedside table along with a note from his godfather.

It glowed and fizzed a little as he tugged the cork off and winced at the sharp scent. For a brief moment he hesitated, doubt creeping into the back of his mind. A stab of the overwhelming guilt and fear from his nightmares shot through him. He downed the phial, the potion burning its way down his throat.

For a moment nothing happened.

Harry almost wondered if it was a trick Sirius was playing on him, a test of some sort. Then he felt something twisting inside him, as though he was suddenly shrinking down, the four-poster bed stretching out ahead of him. He felt nauseated and a trickle of fear dropped into his gut. He tried calling out for Sirius -but couldn't.

Briefly, everything stopped and then -

With a loud 'pop' his glasses clattered noisily to the floor.


	2. Chapter 1: July

**Chapter One**

 

**~ July~**

 

 

Draco fidgeted on the hard wooden bench as Kingsley Shacklebolt took the parchment from a member of the jury. He swallowed thickly, sweat steaming on his skin. He hadn't slept in weeks. He hadn't been allowed to get a haircut. His fingernails were chipped and rough whenever he clenched his hands into fists.

Shacklebolt unfolded the parchment.

Draco closed his eyes, his heart hammering in his ears.

Beside him, his mother clasped her hand over his own. Her grip was cold and tight, hardly the comfort he longed for in that moment. He drew in a wet breath. Was he shaking? Or was it his mother? He couldn't tell.

"The jury have voted unanimously, and recognises that one Draco Lucius Malfoy was integrated into the ranks of the Death Eaters and bears their mark on his forearm. However, considering he was not of legal age at the time of initiation the Ministry of Magic has deemed him a victim of grotesque abuse and mutilation."

Yes, he was definitely shaking.

"As Minister of Magic, I am certifying that Draco Malfoy is the victim of abuse; physically, mentally and emotionally. The psychological trauma he has suffered at the hands of Voldemort himself, have made fully grown men, break. Through this young man's sheer will to fight to protect himself and his family, I am declaring that he not be committed to Azkaban for being complicit in any crimes relating to Death Eater activity."

There were heated murmurs starting up in the crowd of reporters and civilians present at the trial. Draco was grateful that the auror's had a protective barrier erected between himself and the angry mob on the other side of the courtroom.

His mother squeezed his hand. Her nails dug into his flesh.

"However, for the next twelve months he will be placed into the protective custody of a relative at a secure location where he will be on house arrest."

More angry voices.

Draco frowned up at Shacklebolt. What was he talking about?

"As a personal request to me, should he wish to return to study, he shall be allowed to do so with a series of auror's placed in the school to help protect him at all times."

"Who gives him the right?! Harry Potter wouldn't stand for this after what he's done!" a rowdy man called from the crowd of fuming witches and wizards. Draco wished he could press himself further into the wooden bench.

"I have here a letter from one, Harry Potter," Shacklebolt declared, freeing a letter from the folds of his bright purple robes. Opening it up he called, "It reads;

 

' _Draco Malfoy is a brave wizard. Despite what people may say, he has been through more than any one person should suffer through. He did what he had to do to survive. He has done things he will never be proud of and will have to live with for the rest of his life._

_As I have done._

_However, I also know and have been shown that he is a remarkably talented and smart wizard. He deserves to regain what was stolen from him. Not everyone gets that chance, many people have died fighting for that chance, but we are in a free world now. I did not fight for frightened people to be condemned. I did not fight for innocent people to be tossed in prison to rot away._

_I fought for us all to have a second chance. A chance for a better life, not hiding in fear._

_See that Draco Malfoy gets the protection he requires wherever he chooses to go. However, if he does show any signs of derailing from this new lease on life, I leave it in the hands of Kingsley Shacklebolt to deal with the matter as he sees fit._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry. J. Potter_ '."

 

The room fell silent.

Draco was terrified. He felt sick to his stomach. Potter had written such a sincere and raw letter in aid of his freedom? Was this a dream? He didn't dare to look up from his lap. He was too scared to look up and see that it was all some toxic, trauma-induced dream.

"It is hereby the consensus of the jury that Draco Malfoy shall be released into the protective custody of his relative, Sirius Black."

Draco's head shot up. His cousin? He hadn't known that he was going to be released into someone else's custody. He wanted to remain with his mother. She needed his support. Father had already been sentenced to Azkaban, there was no way around that. There would be a chance for parole and leniency in a few years time, however too much was happening for his brain to process.

The manor and their assets had been seized, and their accounts frozen, to help 'repay' some of the damage done by the Malfoy name. All their heirlooms were being auctioned off. It made him feel sick seeing all the empty spaces around his home. Shacklebolt had insisted that they would keep the property itself, but everything in it was free game. Draco had literally been watching his inheritance drip away.

"As for Narcissa Black Malfoy; the jury have decreed that she will be exiled from Great Britain for fifteen years with the chance to appeal our decision in seven."

He gripped his mother's hand.

A tear dripped down her cheek as she straightened up beside him. That'd be the only weakness she showed, he knew that. Her lips were pursed and her back was ramrod straight. "It'll be okay, my dragon," she murmured softly, her lips barely moving as she spoke.

He shook his head, barely daring to believe her, to believe the jury's decision. None of it made sense. A part of him almost wanted to crawl into a filthy hovel of a cell and rot on the cold, stone floor. He deserved it, didn't he?

The gavel came down.

The sentencing was final.

Draco still couldn't breathe.

 

 

 

 

In the adjoining room, Draco let himself collapse into a hardback chair, his insides numbed from the experience. Narcissa glided into the chair adjacent to him and folded her hands on the tabletop. Under her façade she was as drained as Draco; she wore no make-up and her hair was frazzled at the ends, but that was as far as she would allow the public to see her distress.

Kingsley and their lawyer join them.

"That went as well as could be expected," he stated, seating himself opposite the Malfoy's. "I will ensure that you have a team of four auror's accompany you back to the manor so that you can pack your essentials."

"We're to leave tonight?" Narcissa asked, her brow furrowing ever so slightly.

"You have a port-key awaiting for you for 8AM tomorrow morning," Kingsley stated. "Your son, however, will need to be escorted to his cousin's house this evening. It'll make the process easier and we can finalise the papers now."

Narcissa let out a long breath through her nose. "Very well. Has my cousin consented to allowing my son to stay with him?"

"We contacted Mr. Black prior to the sentencing. His owl arrived with his, albeit, reluctant agreement to the situation on the condition that your son obeys his rules and 'pull his weight' as quoted by your cousin's letter."

Draco was aware of them talking about him, but he felt disengaged from his body. It was as though this situation didn't apply to him, like it was happening to someone else. The one thing that kept going around in his head was that Potter had written a letter on his behalf. He had to wonder as to the jury's leniency regarding his own mother's trial. She was a known Death Eater and had been complicit in some low-level crimes, of what people knew at least. Yet she hadn't even heard the word Azkaban at her trial. She wouldn't tell him why.

"Is the letter real?" he found himself asking. It was as though his mouth worked on its own, his raspy voice cutting through the conversation being had by the other adults.

"I bet your pardon Mr. Malfoy?" Kingsley frowned.

"The letter. From Potter. Is it real?"

The minister took a moment before taking the letter from his pocket and sliding it across the table to the youngest Malfoy. Taking the letter in his hands, Draco unfolded the parchment and read it, feeling disgusted with himself for even knowing Potter's handwriting. It seemed legitimate.

"Did you check this for contamination?" he asked stoically. Shacklebolt nodded. "Okay," he murmured. What else did he have to say at this point? Folding the letter back up, he slid it back towards the minister and recoiled into his chair.

He had been sentenced as had his mother. Now they just needed to wait to be escorted back to their desolate manor and individually pack whatever they had left to take with them. They would be parting ways. His stomach dropped through the floor. He would be without his mother. She'd always been a calming constant in his life and now she would be thousands of miles away, in France.

The auror's came.

They were practically frog-marched towards the floo-network, a large path being cut through the cluster of civilians. Narcissa strode through with all her remaining dignity, her cold charm radiating outwards to show that she could not be broken. Draco knew he looked worse for wear. He had not inherited his mother's cool radiance as much as he liked to believe so. No, he was a coward as much as his father had been towards the end of the war.

His mother stepped through the floo with two auror's on either side of her. Draco watched the flames engulf her. It made him feel sick. As soon as the fire died down, it was his turn. He was extremely aware that the two men either side of him were armed, whereas his own wand was still being detained. Stepping over the grate, Draco caught one last sight of the angry crowd before the green flames leapt up and swallowed him with a sharp tug on his navel.

He only stumbled a little on the other side. Usually there was a hearthrug to soften the impact on his feet -but that had been sold-off a few weeks ago. Straightening up he brushed some soot from his jacket sleeve. Narcissa turned to the auror's and pursed her lips.

"I take it we shall have two chaperones each?" she asked icily.

The auror's nodded.

"Very well. You two follow me to my rooms, you two can accompany my son. It shouldn't take us more than a few hours to pack."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Malfoy," one of the auror's said, bitterly. "It doesn't take that long to pack."

"With all due respect, Mr. Ackley, but the ministry has confiscated my wand. Meaning everything must be done manually. Forgive me for being prudish, but I don't much like the idea of any of you lot going through my clothes."

Her tone was frosty and cut through the air like a shard of ice.

No one argued with her.

With that being said, Narcissa cast one last look at her son before turning on her heel and leaving the entrance hall towards the staircase. Draco watched her go, feeling lost already. At the very least he needed to focus and do something practical. So, he cleared his throat and followed his mother's lead, and beckoned for the auror's to follow him up the grand staircase towards his bedchamber.

 

 

 

The two auror's were stationed by the main door as Draco dug a couple of large trunks from under his bed. They were a little old and the buckles were battered, but he was sure they could be replaced. Preservation charms only lasted so long. From his walk-in wardrobe and drawers he managed to dig out what little attire he had left. It was quite limited to what he was used to. Some of his finer robes had been sold off. It crushed his insides to know that the money was being spent to aid the charities and damage done by the war, most of it hadn't been done by him or his family. Sadly, that was the law.

Manually taking his clothes off of their hangers and folding them himself was beyond arduous. He used to have so much free time, he realised. No wonder his father loathed muggles, even from the simple fact that they had to do  _everything_  by hand. How did anyone live like this? He ground his teeth together, biting back the request for the auror's to charm his belongings to fold themselves. That would be weakness.

His clothes managed to just fit into the first trunk, which left the second one freed up for his remaining toiletries, books and other assorted items that he'd managed to hold onto.

Glancing around his room, at all the empty spaces, he felt his heart shatter. Hidden at the bottom of one of his trunks was the small stuffed dragon he'd had since he was little. It was the one childhood possession his mother had allowed him to keep. He couldn't leave that behind. Not that it had any monetary value of course, but it had such sentimental value to Draco himself that he couldn't dare leave it behind.

"Is that everything?" Auror Pembrooke asked.

Draco sighed quietly and nodded. "Yes. That's it."

Back down in the entrance hall of the manor, Narcissa was already awaiting her son and his bodyguards. Her trunks were stationed beside her, looking as full as his own felt. There was a longing in her eyes that was meant only for him and he felt the ache of loneliness spread through his chest. He gave her a smile that barely reached his eyes. She inclined her head towards the door. One of her auror's -was is Ackley? -must be activating the portkey that would take us to Sirius Black's house.

Dread solidified in Draco's stomach.

"The portkey is ready," came Ackley's voice from just outside the large, oak doors.

In silence, they filed out of the manor for what would most likely be the last time for a good few years to come. Draco wanted to run back up to his bed and hide under the covers like he'd done when he was small, but he shook the urge away. The portkey was a battered old purse, frayed threads unravelling where once beads would have been sewn into the silk fabric. It was awkward to pinch at the small purse.

With another sickening tug on his insides, the portkey activated.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Stepping through the gated off area, Draco stiffened as the tip of a wand pressed into his lower back, urging him forward quickly. Through numerous illuminated windows Draco could see muggles sitting and laughing at some flickering thing mounted on their walls, or doing something that looked like -was that washing or cooking? Either way it involved a lot of handiwork. The sky was barely darkening overhead and despite the twenty minute walk from Kings Cross Station, Draco knew that he wouldn't fall asleep, even when the chance came to do so.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Yes," Narcissa murmured, reaching into the inner pocket of her robes. She withdrew a sheet of parchment and tapped her wand to the page. " _Revelio_ ," she whispered. Black ink appeared over the parchment. Holding the page over to her son she said, "Read it. Out loud and clearly."

Gingerly taking the parchment from his mother, Draco mouthed the words three times before glancing up at the houses. Licking his lips he spoke; "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."

The grating of brick-on-brick filled the night air. Belongings rattled aggressively in the neighbouring buildings of number eleven and number thirteen, however the muggles appeared unperturbed. It was fascinating to watch as an entirely new building pushed its way through, with concrete steps popping up and embedding themselves into the street below.

A door appeared, the number '12' gleaming in the lamplight.

As a unit, they moved towards the concrete steps. Narcissa escorted her son up to the front door. The wood was glossy black, the sole knocker in the shape of a silver serpent chasing its own tail. There was no key-holes or anything else to indicate it could be opened other than by magic. Narcissa pressed the doorbell, hearing it clang out throughout the house within.

It took a little while before someone answered.

Draco didn't remember anything about Sirius Black other than the few mugshots that the Daily Prophet had printed when he'd first escaped from Azkaban. There had once been a tiny photo during his own trials following the war, however his name had been cleared with a fair trial and he'd skilfully avoided the press from that moment on. Whatever Draco had remembered of his cousin, the real thing was something far more grand and strange at the same time. He stood six foot two and had the trade-mark mass of dark brown -almost black -curls sitting on his shoulders with a neatly groomed moustache and beard. He was dressed in a pair of pressed pants and had a pinstriped shirt on, the collar undone and his sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

He took them all in, his grey eyes flicking from face-to-face before acknowledging the auror's stationed on the last step. "Narcissa," he inclined his head. "Draco."

"Sirius," she replied. "I take it you received Kingsley's letter."

"I did."

"I apologise for having to disrupt your life in this manner."

"If it had been up to me I'd have flat-out refused. However," he cast a side-ways look at Draco, "I know that one or two friends of mine would have something to say about any negligence on my part."

"It's greatly appreciated," Narcissa said sincerely, emotion finally ebbing into her voice. From her robes she withdrew an envelope with Sirius' name printed on the front. "This probably contains information on how to protect Draco and yourself from reporters and other counter-measures."

Sirius accepted the letter without a word. He slipped it into his pocket. Glancing down he noted Draco's two large trunks and frowned. "Is that all you have with you?"

Bristling, Draco ground his teeth. "Yes."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "That's a shame."

Draco barely had a moment to think of a response before his mother turned towards him and enveloped him in her arms. He may have grown taller than her, but the way she gathered him against her chest always had him feeling tiny and eager to cling to her robes. He inhaled her deeply, drinking in the scent of her french perfume and praying the smell clung to him for as long as possible.

"I love you, my dragon," she murmured into his ear.

"I love you too, mother," he said. He squeezed her tightly, not caring about decorum in that moment. His eyes felt hot but he refused to cry twice in one day. With a kiss to his cheek, Narcissa withdrew from the embrace, her own eyes sparkling in the lamplight.

"I'll write to you as soon as I'm settled in," she promised.

"Thank you," he managed to say.

He watched as Narcissa retreated down the concrete steps. She and the four auror's stepped down onto the pavement, the wards humming as they stepped through. Draco felt the vague disturbance in the air but otherwise was unaffected by it. Once he was added to the wards -if he was added -it'd be different. Draco watched as they moved back through into the gated off park across the street. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Sirius turned to his cousin and folded his arms across his chest. "I suppose you'd better come in. It's not safe for you to be out and about right now." He stepped aside and let Draco drag his own trunks in through the open door.

 

 

 

The hallway was pleasantly cool compared to the muggy air outside.

Setting his trunks just inside the door, Draco watched as Sirius flicked his wand to lock the door with a few wordless charms. Turning to his cousin, Sirius furrowed his brow. This was a most unwelcome arrangement. He hadn't even had time to send an owl to Remus to let him know about this current predicament. Not that it was an issue on the other man's part; Remus would have been sensible enough about it.

"Okay, let's get you settled in."

Draco nodded mutely, grasping the handles of his trunks again. He followed Sirius up the stairs to the first floor landing. The door they stopped at, had an ornate 'R' in silver attached at eye-level. Inside, the decor was expected; two-tone grey striped wallpaper lined the tall walls, the bedframe was made of dark wood and intricately carved, with matching bookcases and a dresser opposite the bed. A fireplace stood proudly off to the left side and there was a floor-to-ceiling window beside the dresser, letting in a lot of light.

"This can be your room if you like," Sirius stated. "It's been used recently but everything has been cleaned and freshened up for you."

"Thanks," Draco swallowed thickly.

"If you're feeling hungry, I can have some food ready for you in about half an hour."

Draco stiffened as hunger stabbed through his insides. He didn't have the energy to eat. "I don't know if I can."

Sirius inclined his head. "It's been a long day. A long few weeks. Come downstairs, I'll have Kreacher sort something out for you."

"Kreacher?"

"My house-elf."

"Oh ..." Draco trailed off. They had been forced to free their remaining house-elves by order of the ministry. The ones who wanted to work were auctioned off to other families, some even going to Hogwarts. He hadn't bonded with any of them though, not really. None since second year when he'd had Dobby and sent him to...

"Where's Potter?" he asked.

Sirius frowned, "What?"

"Potter? Harry Potter? He lives here, doesn't he?"

"He does."

Draco waited for more of an answer, or some vague explanation as to why Potter hadn't made an appearance yet, but his cousin was hardly forthcoming. He supposed he couldn't blame him, not after his history with the bespectacled git. Any idiot would know not to let them in the same room together, but sharing a house? For the unforeseen future? How the fuck was that going to go?

"Get unpacked," Sirius' voice cut through his thoughts. "Downstairs in twenty minutes."

"Yes sir," Draco murmured automatically, and cringed. Fuck ... where had that come from?

Thankfully, Sirius didn't comment on it. The frown on his face said it all. He gave Draco a tight-lipped half-smile before leaving the room. His footsteps retreated down the staircase.

For the first time in weeks Draco let out a long sigh, feeling his entire body deflate. He was still incredibly tense and his mind was a mess but at least he had somewhere to unwind later on that night. Feeling stiff, scratchy and exhausted, Draco opted to change out of his courtroom suit. The scent of his mother's perfume still clung to the collar of his jacket. It brought tears to his eyes. Brushing them aside, he changed into a more casual outfit, lying the suit out across the foot of his bed and hugged his arms around his chest.

So this was it? His new home?

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

With a sigh, he turned away from the room, manually shut off the light, and made his way downstairs for whatever Kreacher was cooking. Maybe food would calm his nerves. He could hope so, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I hope there was enough information in here in regards to what Narcissa and Draco went through, post-war. If you have any questions please let me know in the comments and I will try and answer, without any spoilers ;)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

 

 

The long kitchen-come-dining-room had terracotta tiles lining the floor and a rustic feeling running through the entire place, including the copper coloured pots and pans hanging on the walls and shelves above the cooker. A muggle cooker, Draco noted as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. The dining table looked new but well-worn already, the chairs tucked in on all sides. A hunched over house-elf was pottering around the stove, the smell of food suddenly caught in the air and punched Draco in the gut. Whatever was cooking, smelled amazing. He hadn't had much of an appetite in the last few weeks.

The house-elf turned around and froze, his dull eyes growing wide. "Master Malfoy, sir, it is a privilege to be meeting you."

Draco gave a curt nod, suddenly feeling sickened as the elf bowed low before straightening up. He looked a little grubby but completely at home being domesticated. He was old though, that wasn't too unusual.

"Master Malfoy be seating himself, sir," the elf gestured to a chair nearer the stove, "Kreacher is making the shepherds pie. Is Master Black's choice tonight."

Draco settled down, grateful for the warmth emanating from the stove. He hadn't realised how cold he felt.

The dining room was long and narrow, stretching the full length of the ground floor. It was unsettling to think of how Christmas dinners were able to work, if that was even a tradition his cousin partook in. Just as Kreacher levitated the dishes over towards the table, the kitchen door opened and Sirius stepped down into the kitchen. He regarded Draco with a slightly wary expression but sat down opposite him regardless and pulled a plate closer.

They started eating in silence, Sirius dismissing Kreacher to do as he pleased. It didn't last long, however. "So what do you plan on doing now that you've been released into my custody?" he asked.

Draco looked up from picking at his food. "I -hadn't known what to expect after the trial."

"I had a few ideas when I was in prison," Sirius stated, taking a long drink from his goblet. "But they all revolved around killing old friends." He gave a thin smile which sent a shiver down Draco's spine. It must have shown on his face because a sudden bark of laughter from the older man made him jump. "Calm down, kid. The man was killed, friends avenged, I can finally move on with my life. If I can manage it, you will too."

"Somehow that's not reassuring."

This time Sirius gave a proper smile. "Trust me. You'll manage. You just need to figure out what you want to do with yourself."

Draco hunched over his food. It tasted good, he was sure, but to him everything tasted like cardboard. "Most people won't want a Death Eater near them, regardless of how I became one or not."

"Have they recommended therapy?"

Narrowing his eyes, Draco nodded. "Yes ... Why?"

"That's one of the things that Harry insisting on making available for everyone who suffered first-hand in the war. Making sure that they were all allowed therapy. Naturally any criminals or people on trial wanting therapy would need to have Aurors with them, but that was easily done."

"I see," Draco mumbled. "Where is Potter anyway? Too busy with fundraisers to grace as with his time?"

Sirius stiffened a little, his grey eyes darkening. "Bitterness will lead you down a dark path, Draco. I'd have thought it'd be easy to let go of petty playground bullshit considering what you've both been through." He locked eyes with the teen, "You of all people should know the impact Voldemort had on any one person."

Draco bowed his head, "Sorry, sir."

"No need," he said dismissively. "Now let's move on to another order of business."

Draco steeled himself.

"After dinner, we're going to add you to the wards so that you will be allowed to come and go easier, and have protection as long as you remain inside this house." Draco nodded in understanding, "You will make every attempt to be sociable as much as possible. I will escort you too and from your therapy sessions, unless I am unavailable, in which case an Auror will be appointed."

"I'm not a child," he snapped, but there was no heat behind his words.

"I'm aware. It's merely something I have agreed upon. After Christmas we can revisit it depending on progress and whatever else has been done." Sirius laced his fingers together under his chin. "I have also agreed to some terms with the ministry. You have permission to write letters to your mother as soon as she is settled in her house in France, and she to you."

"I ... appreciate that."

"And we can look into opening communication channels to your friends-"

"That won't be necessary," Draco cut in, his jaw rigid.

Sirius didn't ask for him to elaborate and that was just fine with the blonde. He didn't need his cousin to pity him, knowing that he had no friends to talk to. Pansy was out on parole, Blaise and his family had fled to Italy after making a sizeable donation to various charities. He hadn't gotten the dark mark, so Draco didn't see why his friend was running. Perhaps it was just a precaution? Either way, Draco wasn't sure he knew what to say to his friend.

"This is going to be hard for you," Sirius stated, matter-of-factly. What he said next wasn't to be mean, it was just the reality that had been thrust upon them. "It will be hard for a while. People will yell things, spread rumours and constantly piss you off. You  _need_  to have some friends."

Draco ground his teeth together.

"I don't know where I would be if I hadn't had at least one."

"Is that all it takes?" Draco found himself asking, even daring to look up at the brunette man. "From going mad?"

Sirius inclined his head, "Believe it or not, once you open the door for one, usually a torrent follow whether you like it or not."

In spite of how he felt, Draco felt his face muscles wanting to smile. It almost happened. Almost. He managed to eat a few more mouthfuls before his stomach protested. Pushing his plate away, he drained the last of his juice and shuddered. "I ... don't think I can eat anymore," he stated apologetically.

Sirius waved him off. "It's fine. It'll keep. For now, I think you'd best have a bath, wash the day off you, and have an early night. I find sleep often ... troublesome. I had the liberty of ordering something that might take the edge off."

Draco gut dropped. Was it a whole crate of dreamless sleep? He found he didn't really want to know the answer. He was just about to step up into the hallway when he stopped. "Where exactly is the bathroom is this ... maze?"

"Up the stairs, second floor, down the corridor and it's the door on the right."

 

 

 

 

The bathroom wasn't as large as Draco was used to but at the same time, it wasn't claustrophobic. The floor was black and white tiled like a chess-board and the walls were a deep blue colour. The ancient knobs and taps looked like pewter and were deeply engraved, much like what Draco had back at the manor.

Even the taps were engraved to resemble snakes.

The claw-foot tub stood proudly underneath the window, the pipes gurgling a little as Draco turned the hot water on. Slowly, the tub started to fill, bubbles foaming up as soon as he remembered that he had to  _add_  the bubble-bath now. That would take some getting used to.

Perched on the edge of the tub, Draco looked around the rest of the room. There wasn't much to see; there was an oval mirror above the sink that looked older than he was, and there were shelves stacked with various soaps, shampoos and after-shaves all in different colours and scents. Draco had merely used the bottle perched on the window-sill.

Once the bath had filled, he stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the tub, sinking down beneath the bubbles.

Once he'd washed his hair and scrubbed his skin raw, he stepped out onto the mat on the floor, dried off and dressed back into his clothes. The grandfather clock in the hallway announced it was 8PM. He had never felt more ready to sleep in his entire life. Padding up the small staircase to his room, he let the door creak open and froze when he saw the trio of large orbs hovering over by the dresser. He frowned up at them, pressing himself back into the door. What the fuck was that?

"This was something that I'd gotten as a present," Sirius' voice made him jump. The man was too damn quiet sometimes. "They adjust to your emotional state of mind; when you're tired they'll dim down, when you have a nightmare they'll be bright enough to calm you down, or change colour, depending."

Draco glanced at the older man. "I'm guessing it was a gift from Potter."

"Yes," Sirius hummed. "There's only so much waking up and screaming either one of us could take. Darkness was the main catalyst."

"Hopefully they work," Draco murmured apprehensively.

"If they don't we can try something -"

An ear-splitting cry shattered the moment.

Draco cringed away from the door, grabbing blindly for his wand and only finding air. "What the fuck was that?" he grimaced, clenching the bedpost. "Was that a ... Do you have a baby?"

Sirius was already hurrying out of the door. "Not exactly!" he shot over his shoulder.

Draco didn't know what that could possibly mean but he decided he didn't have the energy to find out. Slamming the bedroom door closed he was grateful that it kept the crying to a dull echo, even without a silencing charm. Rooting around in his trunk, he pulled out the worn-out dragon. A tremor ran down his spine as he tugged the covers of the bed back and burrowed down underneath. Despite it being the middle of summer he was glad for the cool weight of the blankets pressing down on top of him. Burrowing under the pillows, he deafened himself to the rest of the world and clenched his eyes shut.

Clenching the dragon's neck tightly, Draco willed himself to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

Draco sat bolt upright in bed at 7:34AM.

The lights were a dull yellow, sending soft swirling patterns of golden light around the room. His breathing was ragged, his skin drenched in a sheen of sweat. The nightmare had rendered his bath the previous evening completely useless. Scraping his hair back off of his forehead, he started shaking as the cool morning air rushed over him. There was no fire in the grate. His heart sank even further in his chest; usually the house-elves would have lit a fire so that he wouldn't have to wake up to a cold room.

 _'I hadn't realised how much I relied on magic_ ,' he thought bitterly as he kicked his covers aside and hunted through his trunk for something -anything -to wrap around himself to ward off the chill.

Bundled up in thicker layers than necessary, Draco felt as though he could sleep no longer, despite how tempting the bed looked. In the end, his gut decided that he was hungry enough to warrant padding down to the kitchen. The fire in the fireplace and the stove were on, Kreacher was pottering around making eggs and bacon with toast. Draco almost doubled over with hunger as he settled down at the table.

"Morning Master Malfoy, sir. Kreacher is making the master's's breakfast! Would the young Master be needings something he likes?"

"Do you have any sausages?" Draco asked, trying to keep his tone polite.

"Yes, Kreacher is having the sausages." He bustled over to the pantry and returned with a plate of sausages that he added to the frying pan.

The sizzle was loud.

"Thanks."

"No needing to thanks Kreacher, sirs."

Draco opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it as footfalls echoed down the stairs. He braced himself to deal with Sirius after, what he could only assume, a sleepless night. The door behind him swung open. Much to Draco's chagrin, the older man didn't look much different from last night. His hair looked a little bushier, reminding him of Granger, and he had a fresh shirt on but otherwise looked unchanged. Except for the baby in his arms!

Draco bristled. "Where the hell did that come from?"

Sirius shot him a look but didn't say anything as he transfigured a regular chair into a high-chair, settling the squirming infant into it. "Kreacher prepare some milk."

"Kreacher is getting the milks for the baby Potter."

Draco's jaw dropped. "What -what the fuck?" He leaned over the table, staring right into the brat's eyes. They were bright green and shining, rimmed by thick lashes. The trademark scar was puckered and raw on his forehead underneath a fluffy black fringe. "Oh Merlin's beard! Is that POTTER?!"

Sirius waved him to sit back down, hissing a loud "Shhhh!" as he did so. "Don't be too loud, you don't want to set him off again."

"ME?!" Draco snapped, aghast. "I've not even been here a day! How do you expect me to deal with this?!" He gestured at Potter who was currently suckling on a bottle that Kreacher held out for him. Standing up, appetite gone, Draco backed away to the kitchen door. "I can't -I can't do this!"

"Draco wait!"

The door crashed open, almost smacking the blonde in the face. Remus Lupin -really? Him?! -stood framed in the doorway, looking like thunder, his eyes blazing gold as he glared over Draco's shoulder at the scene before him. The whole look was sort of diminished a little by the baby strapped to his chest. The man barely glanced at Draco as he came down the two steps.

"Mr. Malfoy I suggest you go to your room," he stated darkly.

Despite the instinct to argue his right to know what was going on, Draco decided that angering a werewolf was not a lot different to angering a hippogriff, so he did as he was told. For now. Stepping around the tall man, Draco hedged along the hall towards the staircase and gingerly backed up to his room. Before he'd even reached the first landing, the shouting started making him flinch.

" _WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!_ "

" _Moony, don't start_  -"

" _DON'T YOU 'MOONY' ME, SIRIUS! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!_ "

" _Didn't you get my letter?!_ " Sirius snapped. " _He made his decision! I just helped him, that's all!"_

" _AND THAT JUSTIFIES THIS?!"_  Lupin snarled. A shiver ran through Draco's limbs as he crouched beside the bannister, feeling very much like he was an infant again. " _IF HE WAS FEELING THIS WAY THEN HE NEEDED PROFESSIONAL HELP NOT TO RUN AWAY FROM HIS PROBLEMS_!"

" _HASN'T HE HAD ENOUGH OF THAT, REMUS?!_ " Sirius hollered. It was the sound of a caged animal, a wrecked soul barely holding itself together. It hollowed Draco out. Was this was Azkaban did to you? Was that what it'd do to his father? " _HE HAS DONE NOTHING BUT BE THERE FOR EVERYONE ELSE, DOING WHAT THEY ALL ASKED OF HIM! THIS WAS ... This was the only thing I could do for him_  ..."

There was a heavy pause.

" _I suppose there's not much that can be done_ ," Lupin's gravelly voice stated in a resigned manner. " _For what it's worth, this is the single most STUPID THING you've done."_

_"Is that including escaping from Azkaban or ...?"_

" _You're lucky these two are here, otherwise I'd bludgeon you with a chair!_ "

The voices dropped even quieter to the point where Draco could only make out a few words here and there. He sat, hunched over on the stairs with his shoulder slotted between the poles of the bannister. He felt vulnerable and as low as he'd felt since before the trial. What was he doing here? It was barely convenient and now there was this mess with Potter to deal with?

 _'Typical_ ,' he thought bitterly.  _'Not even being forced into someone else's care and being on trial is enough for the spotlight. Potter always manages to upstage me somehow_.'

The thought barely lasted a moment before the reality of Potter's dilemma sunk into his brain. To revert oneself to an earlier version of themselves -a younger version -one really had to be suffering.

 _'Maybe he had the right_  idea,' he thought idly.  _'What I wouldn't give to worry about nothing but crapping myself every few hours_.'

Letting out a long, weary sigh he used the bannister to help hoist him back up to his feet. His body was stiff and aching with fatigue. Even his hunger couldn't convince him to return to the kitchen, no matter how tempting the sausages smelled.

Dragging himself up the remaining stairs, Draco re-entered his bedroom and pushed the door closed, hearing the satisfying 'click' of the lock. Shedding any unnecessary layers, he crawled back underneath the cool weight of the covers and shuddered as the lights lowered themselves to a dull glow.

Exhaustion washed over him within moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I hope you guys liked this update, even if it was a little bit shower than the last one. Bare with me on updates, please! I'll do what I can but comic con is this weekend and I'm SUPER STRESSED!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the read. Much love! x


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 

 

 

A weight pressed down on the edge of the bed. It startled Draco awake, his brain still sluggish as he rolled over onto his side and rubbed a hand down over his mouth and nose, trying to get some life back into himself. The room gradually got lighter. Something heavy shifted against his shoulder. He frowned.

Cracking an eye open he was startled to see Sirius sat in a chair that had been pulled up to the side of the bed. "Don't do that," he grimaced as he shifted up on the pillows. "It's creepy."

Sirius arched an eyebrow but didn't comment. Something shifted against Draco's arm again. Glancing down, he scrambled away at the sight of baby-Potter perched against the pillows. Sirius leaned forward and adjusted the baby's position but didn't scowl at the blonde teen for his reaction. "You must be hungry," he said instead. "You didn't come back down for breakfast."

"You seemed busy," Draco stated darkly, eyeing the baby warily. "With all the yelling."

"Don't pay any mind to Remus," Sirius said. "He gets a bit of a hot temper when it's near a full-moon."

Cold dread dropped into Draco's stomach. He drew his knees against his chest and shook a little. "Just -get that thing off my bed!" He hadn't meant to sound rude, it was just all too much. He still hadn't given much thought to Potter being a child, let alone interacting with him.

Sirius complied, but not without pursing his lips. "I only put him there because he was whimpering a lot being on my lap," he intoned. Potter was settled back into his guardian's lap and scrunched his small lips up in distaste. He didn't cry though. That was always a bonus.

"I don't even know what to do -how to deal with all this." A tremor entered the blonde's voice as he tried not to focus on anything in the room. "I don't even know how mother is, I have no future prospects, no work prospects, I -I -I'm like the bottom rung of society!"

Sirius nodded but didn't interject.

"I feel -I feel like I have all this energy inside me but -but nothing can come out! I don't even have a sodding wand!"

"Doing magic doesn't always require a wand," Sirius said.

"I'm not powerful enough for anything else," Draco sneered bitterly. "Besides, they'd probably put a dampner on that too."

"Being bitter will get you nowhere, Draco. Trust me, I know that only too well."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Draco drew a blanket around his shoulders. Why was he so cold all the time? It was summer for Merlin's sake! "Why did you come here?" he asked.

"To check up on you. That's my job."

"Your job is to not kill me before society does," Draco snapped. "That's hardly a feat in itself."

"With the way you're acting right now I'd say I'm doing a good job restraining myself."

Draco glared at his new guardian but didn't rise to the bait. The weight of everything dropped onto him again and made him feel physically sick. He hadn't really eaten much in the last few weeks. His stomach growled in hunger but it just made him feel worse.

"Do you want to come down for something to eat?" Sirius asked, tenderly smoothing his hand over baby-Potter's tuft of jet-black hair. It threw Draco a little, seeing a man originally wanted for mass-murder being gentle and caring for Potter. Or maybe it was seeing a man coming from money, dressed in said money, and being affectionate was something that Draco wasn't too used to from any purebloods in the wizarding world.

Not in his world, anyway.

"I don't think I'm up to racing anyone."

"It's just me and Harry," Sirius said. "Remus left about an hour ago to put Teddy to bed."

"Teddy?"

"Your other cousin. Remus' son."

"Ah ..." Draco frowned at the windows. The sun was low in the sky, sending dull shades of dark orange over the neighbourhood. "What time is it?"

Sirius flicked his wand and muttered ' _Tempus_ '. "It's nearly 8PM."

"I slept all day?!"

"You've had a long few days, Draco. It'll take a while for your body to recover from the emotional exhaustion. Don't fret, you have time for all of that." Draco didn't respond. "Come downstairs. We can have something to eat, drink and talk."

"I don't want to talk."

"Fine," Sirius shrugged, scooping baby-Potter into his arms. "I'll talk. You can just eat to your hearts content."

"You're not going to leave me alone unless I come downstairs, are you?"

"No."

"Fine."

Sirius allowed him some privacy to get dressed, choosing to take Potter down into the kitchen and get him settled down. As he walked down the stairs he babbled to Potter in a very father-like fashion. An ache spasmed in Draco's chest as he threw open his trunk -he really needed to unpack -and changed into loose fitting clothes. He really was losing weight fast. He never did handle stress well. Trying to make himself look more presentable in the dresser mirror, Draco checked his teeth for debris, before deciding to face the music, so to speak, and go down to the kitchen.

 

 

Like earlier it was warmed thanks to the stove, Kreacher was already cooking and Sirius was -of all things -feeding mush into baby-Potter's mouth. Even for a baby, the git had piss-poor co-ordination. Could you call a baby a git? Well, it didn't matter, it's not like he'd understand either way.

"Come on, kid, this isn't hard!" Sirius sighed, leaning down so that he was eye-level with baby-Potter. "If you don't eat this, then I'm going to feed you to Moony! You wouldn't like that, would you?"

Baby-Potter blew a spit bubble, erupting into giggles when it popped.

Draco rolled his eyes as he came down the steps into the kitchen. "So what's for dinner?" he asked as he slid into the chair opposite Sirius and the spit-puddle.

"Whatever Kreacher decides on is usually okay," Sirius shrugged. "Plus, there'll be dessert."

Draco suppressed a groan. He hadn't had anything sweet in months!

Within five minutes, Potter had finished whatever mushy crap Sirius was feeding him and was left to play with some sort of chew-toy as Kreacher came to set the main meal on the table. Roast chicken, potatoes and vegetables. It made Draco insides cramp with want. Sirius plated for himself and then reached for Draco's plate and dished up a healthy portion for the blonde. Draco blanched a little at the amount of food, but reasoned that he probably looked a little ghostly. He took the plate and willed his stomach to accept as much food as he could manage. The last thing he needed was to only eat a quarter of it, and throw-up.

They ate in silence and almost got to the end of the main meal before Draco spoke up. "So why did Potter decide to do something so recklessly stupid -again?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows but smiled a little. "Honestly? He was upset."

"I've been upset for years, too. You don't see me doing this."

"We all handle emotional turmoil in different ways, not that this is any excuse."

Draco frowned heavily. "So then ... why a child? Why not go into a medically induced coma? Or a magical one?"

"Too risky," Sirius shrugged. "He wanted to have some level of control."

"You call shitting himself all hours of the night 'some level of control'?"

A bark of laughter made the blonde jump. "I'll grant you that. Despite what you may or may not know, his childhood wasn't the best."

"I should imagine living with muggles wasn't great," he sneered.

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Not all muggles are bad, Draco. Just like not all wizards are good. The last few years have seen to that."

"That still doesn't justify -" Potter shrieked with laughter when he threw the chew-toy and it bounced back up onto his high chair. "-That."

Sirius shot Potter an affectionate look before returning his grey gaze to Draco. "I think he just wanted to go back to a time where things were simpler for him. The original was simple but harsh; now he has a chance for simple, easy and calm. I'm more than happy to do whatever I can to help ease him through this."

Draco accepted the plate of food from Kreacher. Sirius accepted his with a tight smile before and poured himself a drink before wrinkling his nose. "You know what," he grimaced down at his goblet. "I think we need something stronger."

Draco glanced at baby Potter. He was happily grizzling in his high-chair. Sirius waved his wand and the high-chair transfigured into a play area with a high railing around it. Soft squishie things cushioned the floor and the lower edges so stop baby-Potter from cracking his head open on the tiles. Returning to the table with two glasses and a dark green glass bottle, Sirius pulled the stopper and poured two fingers in each glass of -what smelled like -firewhiskey. Draco raised his glass in silent thanks.

They drank as they ate, the conversation falling off every so often.

A pleasant, warm buzz spread through the blonde man's extremities. His mind was softening at the edges and his limbs were feeling looser. "So why did you agree to help Potter in this?" he asked, his words slurring ever-so-slightly. "What made you think he was thinking properly?"

"Believe me, Draco, I know he wasn't," Sirius stated, a dark look in his eyes as he pushed the almost-empty plate to one side. He swirled the whiskey before taking another sip. "However, I also know he didn't have an easy time of it when he was a child."

"In what way?" Draco frowned heavily. "I can't imagine he wash-wash-wasn't worshipped."

"What do you think you know of his childhood, Draco?" the older man asked. "What did the rumours say about Harry Potter's childhood?"

Ah, that was a good question.

Draco tried to sift through his memories, squeezing his eyes shut with his head tipped back. There had been tons of stories throughout his childhood about how Potter had been spoiled rotten. That by being the only wizard in a muggle household, he practically dominated the muggles and got them to do his bidding! Draco remembered been green with envy at the very thought of dominating over any adult, especially at such a young age. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Sirius gazing at him with bright grey eyes.

"Oh right ..." he licked his lips. "That he had the muggles at his mercy, that he -that he -that he did great things with his magic and terrified them all!" He let out a laugh.

Sirius huffed a smile but didn't interject.

"My father practically idolised him -he didn't even know Potter but I could never measure up!" Taking on an idiotic voice, Draco sat upright in his chair, "'Oh Draco, did you know the Great Harry Potter always eats his greens!' and 'Goodness Draco, didn't you know that Great Harry Potter never says 'no' to his elders?!' On and on that's all I heard ... Nothing was ever good enough compared to the Great Harry Sodding Potter ..."

"Is that why you resented him so much?" Sirius asked, his voice calm and soothing.

"I guess," Draco shrugged, downing the last of his drink. "It's hard not to hate someone who basically got everything right the first time he ever tried it. Sometimes I had to do things over and over before they were good enough to show anyone."

"That's nothing to feel bad about," Sirius insisted. "Do you know how long it took me to get my patronus to come out? Almost a whole year!"

Draco wasn't sure how long it usually took the average wizard to learn how to conjure a patronus, but 'almost a year' must be a long time for any sort of spell. "Well at least you can do one ..." he remarked.

"You never tried?"

"You need to have a happy memory."

"And?"

"I don't have any."

"You must have a few tucked away in there, Draco," Sirius assured, pouring another measure of firewhiskey. "It just needs to be strong enough."

Draco gave a bitter little laugh, "Can't help it if I don't have any. Pleasant memories? Of course I have those. Good memories? I have some of those, too. Great, strong, powerful memories? Memories that can ward off evil and help protect me?" There were no words -just the solemn shake of his head as he knocked back the next glass of whiskey.

"Easy there, kid."

"Just give me another."

Sirius didn't argue. "You need to look at this as a new chapter in your life. If you give up now, then you're going to have a good eighty years of regret and misery ahead of you."

"How do you think my father feels?" he sneered. "Or my mother? Even Potter couldn't handle it. Look what he's done to himself! He's a BABY!"

Sirius dropped his head into his hands and clawed his fingers through his dark curls. "I'm such an idiot for agreeing to it ... " he bemoaned. "He just made such a convincing argument for it that I could hardly say 'no'. He sh-sh-said he'd researched it ... That he knew what to do ..." A shudder ran through the older man as he hunched over the table. "He never had a father -I thought -I thought I owed it to James -t-t-to be one for him ..."

Draco blinked. He felt as though he were trapped behind glass, the world around him slightly muffled and oddly picturesque. "Why did you not have kids?" he found himself asking, his mouth feeling fluffy, like he'd just eaten burning hot cotton wool.

"Didn't have anyone at the time," Sirius shrugged. Was he pouting? "Lily and James married about a year after graduation. Within another three years they had everything; they got married, bought a house and had a baby! Then went into hiding! Then obviously there was the whole 'framed for murder' thing ..."

"Lupin likes you well enough."

Sirius snorted. "I'm surprised he's my friend at all," he stated, ruffling his curls into a messy mass on his head. "You know for the twelve years I was in Azkaban, he'd thought I was a murderer? He hadn't trusted me ... Hadn't wanted anything to do with me ..."

"How did he change his mind?"

"We had this map ..." Sirius waved his hand, at a loss for the words. "It c-c-can never lies ..."

"So ... how's that help?"

"It showed Pettigrew was alive ... Remus -Remus figured out I was inno-inno- shit -not guilty."

"He didn't want you to be guilty," Draco mumbled.

"What was that?"

Looking up, Draco leaned over on the table, his chin almost touching the wood as he stared up at his guardian. "Lupin! He d-didn't want you to be guilty! Th-that's why he forgives you."

"Maybe you're right," Sirius grinned like a dopey idiot. Amusement and something else gleamed in his glossy grey eyes, and Draco had a far-off thought that maybe, someday soon, he could have something good come out of this new chapter of his life? It'd be unlikely to happen, but there was no reason he had to settle for being a completely pathetic bastard.

Somewhere in the house a clock chimed.

Sirius leapt to his feet. "Merlin's balls! We need to go to sleep!"

Draco staggered awkwardly to his feet, "Yes, we need to do that ... Let's go to bed ..."

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Sunlight poured in through the open curtains.

Draco sat bolt upright, the bright lights and sudden movements shattering through his skull. He let out a loud cry of pain as he clutched his head and dropped back onto the pillows. He tossed and turned in agony, trying to twist away from the pain to no avail. . "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed to himself, as he hid under the blankets, not ready to face the blazing hot day just yet. Pressing his arms tight over his head, he shuddered violently. He didn't want to throw-up, but his stomach was whirling in turmoil.

Floorboards creaked from somewhere downstairs.

How was Sirius functioning at all after all that firewhiskey? Had they nearly finished the entire bottle? Bile tickled the back of his throat and he barely made it to the bathroom in time to vomit. Once he'd brushed the taste from his mouth, he changed into non-sweaty clothes and traipsed down into the kitchen.

"You're finally awake then?"

Draco yelped when he noticed Lupin's worn-out, scraggly appearance bent over the stove. In the centre of the kitchen, there was a play-pen like the previous evening, filled with squishie things. Inside the play-pen there were two children rolling around and dribbling on teething-rings. One was obviously baby-Potter but -who was the other kid with the bright blue hair? And why did the baby have bright blue hair?

"Sit down," Lupin instructed, already carrying a plate laden with food towards the table. "You look a little unsteady."

He set the food down. Draco dropped heavily into his seat. "Thanks," he muttered, reaching gingerly for a knife and fork. "When did you get here? And how did you get in here?"

"Spare key," Lupin stated with a wry smile. "Good thing I did, too. Kreacher can only babysit a child for so long. He's old, after-all."

Draco cast a glance toward the stove, where Kreacher was perched on a footstool polishing some shoes. Guilt wriggled in his stomach. "It was an accident, I didn't mean -"

"Don't you apologise," Lupin cut across. "I doubt it was your idea to drink, anyway."

Feeling awkward, Draco decided to turn his attention to the food in front of him. Despite his stomach's initial protests, he started to eat. Lupin brought his own plate over to the table, sat down and started tucking in too. As they ate the babies grizzled and squeaked from the play-pen, clearly having the time of their lives.

"Do they need feeding?" Draco asked with a frown.

Lupin glanced over at the play-pen and beamed. "I've already fed them. They're enjoying themselves now."

Draco sat there, watching the babies squabbling, rolling around and gurgling. They seemed so carefree. It was adorable. "Are you still mad at Sirius?" he couldn't help but ask. The alcohol had stripped him of his filters. Any other reservation had been thrown-up into the toilet bowl.

"Of course I am," Lupin sighed. "Sadly, what's done is done. I can only give him a hand when he asks."

Draco snorted into his juice but said nothing.

"How are you finding things here?" Lupin asked. "Have you settled in?"

"I ... uh ... still need to unpack."

"You had all of yesterday."

The blonde bristled. "I'm aware," he replied tightly. "I've also just been through a pretty shit trial."

Turning to him, dish-towel in hand, Lupin arched a scarred eyebrow. "Draco, I go through a full moon and shatter my entire body, mentally and physically, every single month. Let's not split hairs on whose been having it harder, okay?"

"I suppose I can't argue with that."

Lupin smiled thinly. "You can try. You won't win."

Draco was keenly aware that he wasn't all that good at making a good first impression. Not even if said person was an ex-professor.

Gurgling drew his gaze down towards the play-pen. For a three-month-old baby, the blue-haired thing certainly was rolling around a lot, content to put anything in its drooling mouth. Draco grimaced a little as the brat blew a spit bubble and blinked in confusion when baby-Potter popped it with his toe as he, too, wriggled around like a tortoise stranded on its shell.

"What's your kids name?" he found himself asking.

Lupin blinked in surprise. "He's named after his grandfather. He's Edward Lupin. Teddy for short."

"Teddy," Draco murmured. "Better than 'Draco' at least."

"Remus is no better, I assure you."

"Where do you think Sirius is?"

"If I know Sirius, he's got his head bent over one of the toilets and spewing his brains out."

"Why are you always so mean to me, Remy?" Sirius' gravelly voice growled from behind Draco.

The blonde jumped a little, watching with a guarded expression as the curly-haired man slumped heavily into a chair beside Remus and dragged a plate of food towards him. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had rough shadow across his jaw. The way Lupin rolled his eyes and tried to bite back a smile told Draco that this was a more regular occurrence than he'd been led to believe. He watched as Lupin poured a mug of strong, black coffee and slid it over to Sirius before excusing himself to check on the babies.

"Eat your food and stop whining," the ex-professor bit out good-naturedly as he played with his sons' tiny fist. "You're meant to be an adult for goodness sake. Besides, what sort of adult leaves a baby unattended whilst he gets pissed with his cousin?"

"I wasn't pissed," Sirius groused. "Just tipsy."

" _So_ much better."

"I made a mistake."

"Sirius, you cannot make a mistake when Harry is vulnerable like this. You get that, right?"

Sirius bowed his head in resignation, much like a dog being told-off for chewing on the furniture. Draco was almost certain the man's ears drooped. His insides squirmed. They both should have known better. He didn't even like Potter, but for the saviour of the wizarding world to get injured from bumping his soft-spot on something -well, that was just going to be Hell when the papers found out.

Their squabbling was interrupted by the pecking of two owls at the kitchen window.

Remus got up and opened the window, took the packages from both owls and paid them a couple of knuts each. Returning to the table, he sifted through the letters and packets that had come through. Returning to the table, he sifted through the letters and packets that had come through. Two were addressed to Sirius, there was a copy of the prophet, and a letter for Draco in his mother's delicate hand-writing. He tore it open, his chest feeling tight as he unfolded the parchment.

 

 

' _My sweet dragon,_

_I arrived in Paris yesterday afternoon and had to go through the upmost ridiculous security measures. It took me hours just to be allowed to leave the premises and be escorted to our summer estate. Honestly, you'd think I'd been the Dark Lord the way these ministry imbeciles go on._

_I have settled in, which is why I'm finally getting to write to you. I have not been appointed any form of help, so I shall have to be rather manual in my up-keep henceforth. It's going to take some adjustment, but we are resourceful people if nothing else. This is the lesser of challenges we have yet to face._

_I hope you have settled in with our cousin. He may be a strange fellow, however I cannot deny the power that he holds, nor the brains to aid himself. They may not align all the time, however he tends to do his best, from what I've gathered. I would not leave you in his care if I didn't trust him at all, Draco. Understand that._

_Tell me all about what you get up to. With very little company over here, I'm sure I'd love any news you have to share._

_All my love,_

_Mother_.'

 

 

His hands trembled as he read over the letter two more times, letting the reality of the situation hit home. It burrowed into his heart and swelled up, making him choke on air. He was aware of the two men looking at him from across the table. He drew in a deep breath, steeled himself, and forced the tears back.

"Mother's settled in," he managed to say, voice strained. "She said she's going to have to get used to cooking manually."

"It's not a bad skill to have," Lupin stated. "Growing up with muggles taught me a lot. You should've seen how this lot reacted when I showed them how to cook macaroni and cheese for the first time."

Draco felt his lip twitch a little.

"Holy Merlin's balls ..." Sirius groaned. "They've finally lost their minds."

Lupin frowned. "What's wrong now?"

"Old Moggie sent me a letter. She's stark-raving mad! People will never go for this."

Exasperated, Lupin snagged the letter out of his friend's hands and scanned the letter. His scarred eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise. "Wow. I didn't expect this from her of all people."

Draco frowned, "What's happened?"

Sirius wrinkled his nose in distaste, pushing his food around with his fork. "McGonagal has asked me to come and teach at Hogwart's. As the defence against the dark arts teacher of ALL THINGS!"

"Sirius it's not that bad," Lupin stated. "What else are you going to be doing? Besides looking after Harry?"

"Exactly. I need to be looking after Harry, not -not -not -WORKING!"

Lupin adjusted his position in his seat. "Why not talk to Minerva about this? We might be able to work something out if did decide to teach."

Sirius raked a hand through his curls. "I just don't know. Maybe it would have been good if -you know -Harry had been going back to study. He could have just shared my quarters or something, less invasive. I can't have a child at the school!"

Draco watched a muscle tick in Lupin's jaw. The cogs were clearly turning in his head. The silence stretched on leaving Draco feel on edge. "Just calm down," Lupin murmured off-handedly, "I may have a solution but I want to talk with Minerva to see if it's even possible, okay?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. There was a hint of a Slytherin inside this man, Draco found himself thinking, arms folded tightly across his chest. He hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until Sirius nodded and returned to his breakfast.

Lupin took the letter and left the kitchen. His footsteps echoed down the hallway towards the front parlour. Draco watched in silence, feeling very much like an outsider -an unwanted guest -as Sirius stood from the kitchen table, put the empty plates into the sink, flicked his wand for them to clean themselves, before bending down into the play-pen and swiping baby-Potter up into his arms. Teddy was sleeping calmly in the little soft nest area.

"Why do you not want to teach?" Draco asked, simply to shatter the silence. If there was silence, then his thoughts could manifest and he didn't want to let that happen.

"It's not my idea of how to spend my free time," Sirius remarked as he got some mushed-food ready for Potter.

"At least it'd keep you occupied. Most teacher's only stayed a year, remember?"

"That was because they all, in some way or another, had a dark affiliation. Normally with Voldemort."

Draco flinched at the name. Echoes of his aunt's mad cackling, the sound of bodies dropping to the floor -it left him feeling hollow and shattered.

Sirius watched him carefully. "You ever think about going back to school? Finishing your seventh year?"

"Didn't really think beyond the trial," Draco admitted.

"Do you think you might want?"

Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek before sighing and shaking his head. "Somehow I don't think anyone will appreciate my presence there."

"That's not really for them to decide," Sirius said pragmatically. "You can ask Minerva and if she says it's okay, then everyone else can just deal with it."

Regarding the older man with a glare, Draco said, "With all due respect, Sirius, I know what shit I got up to at school. I'm sure you did some unsavoury stuff too. The way those gits deal with it, it will hardly be humane."

Sirius snorted as baby-Potter tried to take the spoon for himself. "That may be true, but if I were to take up the position, then you'd have somewhere safer to go."

Draco snorted. "It barely helped when Severus was there, I doubt you could do much better."

"Well old Snivellus always did like to play both sides of the coin." Draco furrowed his brow. Sirius ignored the look and went back to feeding Potter. Apparently, Potter's body may have shrunk, but his appetite hadn't. "Besides, like you said, it'll give you a year to focus on something else and figure out what you want to do next with yourself."

He had a point. Draco loathed having his own words echoed back to him. However -he glanced down at the letter from his mother -it would probably make his mother proud. To continue studying, to push himself forward and try to have a second chance at life. It'd also give him something interesting to report back to her every week. Malfoy's, for all their faults, were a proud family. Draco didn't want to be the weak-link again, to have the name and pride die on his shoulders. He needed to be stronger than that.

Could he do it, though?

"Maybe it's something to think about," the blonde finally said, folding his own letter up and tucking it into his pocket.

Baby-Potter burped then giggled in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know updating a fanfic on my birthday speaks WONDERS about my life, but this is almost like ... cyber-birthday cake. Or something.
> 
> Right? x


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 

 

 

' _What do I want to do? What do I want to do? What do I want to do?_ '

The thought chased itself around Draco's skull as he looked out across the back garden. It was odd to see a back-garden in somewhere like Islington, however it was a long stretch of green grass and would probably make a much welcome hang-out spot in the summer holidays. Provided you had friends to enjoy it with. However, Draco wasn't in the mood to go and bask in the sunshine. It was cooler indoors anyway.

Out in the garden, Lupin had laid out a seating area under a large umbrella. He had Teddy cradled against his chest, the little thing sleeping calmly. Today his hair was a bright, cherry-red. Draco still found it weird, but didn't want to comment on Lupin's offspring. He'd been living at Grimmauld place for just over a week and was almost relaxed about Lupin's casual coming's and going's. He had a key -Draco didn't have a key.

There had been a full-moon four days ago.

Draco had been on edge and tense the entire time. He had been stuck babysitting with Sirius for three nights in a row. That meant they'd been stuck with two babies as opposed to just Potter. That had made him especially uncomfortable; he hadn't been around babies since he was one, and didn't really know how to cope with it all.

Sirius had so much more experience thanks to looking after Potter when he'd originally been a child. It had been strange observing nappy-changing and preparing the milk and food. The man insisted on doing most things the muggle way, although there were a few things he simply had to wave his wand for; like vanishing the dirty nappy.

Despite Sirius' assurance that Lupin was safely locked outside and guarded in the back-garden, Draco was less convinced. He refused to even look out of the back windows as he was doing now, choosing to remain locked into the front parlour with two gurgling brats.

 

Lupin looked a little rough around the edges but he seemed to slip back into 'being human' a lot easier than anyone Draco had ever seen -and those were generally human all year round. As Lupin stroked his palm over his son's head, Draco couldn't help but feel a twinge inside him. A sharp laugh drew his gaze further down the garden. Sirius was spinning baby-Potter around in circles, pulling him close to make silly faces, and then spinning him out at arm's length again.

It looked fun.

"Draco why don't you come out for some lemonade and sunshine?" Remus' voice made Draco flinch as the older man slid in through the ornate black doors that led out onto the patio. Teddy gurgled against his father's shoulder as he turned his wide, amber eyes to look at Draco.

"I'm er ... feeling too hot. I'd rather stay in h-here."

Lupin frowned. "Draco, I'm perfectly fine. I don't bite."

Shit, he saw right through the blonde.

Draco drew himself up straighter and turned his nose up a little. "I'm not worried about  _that_  Lupin. I just don't want to intrude on this weird little family you two have made."

Lupin cocked an eyebrow at that. "Draco, Sirius is your guardian now. He signed the papers. You're as much family as I am."

"Only by blood."

"So what?" Lupin gave a tired smile. "Right now we have the ability to choose our family. Sirius could have easily said 'no' to your mother and to Kingsley. However, he chose to take you in. He wants you here, whether you see that or not."

Draco bristled.

"I just don't feel comfortable being here."

"If you give it a chance, Draco, you might find that you like it here well enough." Teddy's hair flashed brilliant blue and Lupin frowned. "Oh, you little monster!" he scowled down at the baby who suckled his fist obliviously. "Sorry Draco I need to change my son  _again_."

As he disappeared down the hallway, Draco was left to look out into the garden. His body hummed with the energy to go outside and join in the fun. However ... fears gripped him from every angle and glued him to the spot. ' _Just go outside and sit down and have a drink_ ,' his brain urged.  _'There's nothing wrong with that. You can't mess_ that  _up_.'

Shifting one foot in front of the other he forced himself to step outside.

It was hot; the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing caused his skin to flare with a prickly heat that made him want to scratch until his skin came off in spiralled peels.

"Draco?" His head snapped up. "Grab a drink and come over here!"

Draco frowned heavily at the ploy, but didn't outright refuse. He took his time pouring himself a drink and taking a sip before stepping out into the blazing sunshine and across the grass. "Did you need me for something?" he asked stiffly, as he stood a few feet away from Sirius and baby-Potter.

"No, no," Sirius grinned. "I just don't like the idea of you keeping yourself cooped away." Draco pulled a face but didn't say anything else. "Go grab that blanket from one of the chairs, I want Harry to try crawling."

"Is he old enough for that?" Draco asked dubiously.

"His ageing is different from Teddy's due to the potion. There's no harm in trying."

"Far too optimistic," Draco grumbled to himself as he turned away and walked back to the patio, snagged the tartan blanket strewn over one of the chairs and went back into the sun. Sirius had him spread the blanket on the grass and then settled down on one side, baby-Potter already scrambling in his hands. Draco knelt down awkwardly on the opposite side, still not sure what Sirius expected him to do.

Sirius sat with his legs spread in a wide 'V' shape -a surprising feat in his pressed trousers -holding Harry up from under his arms. Baby-Potter's chubby little legs kicked and tip-toed on the spot, large green eyes darting all over the place. He beamed toothlessly up at Draco when those big eyes landed on him.

Draco grimaced.

Sirius dropped a kiss onto Harry's head and settled him on his hands and knees. He looked like a sack of flour with googly eyes stuck on. Draco felt as though he'd get as much common-sense out of adult Potter in any case.

"Are you ready?" Sirius asked as Harry bobbed forward several times, looking as though he was ready to speed-crawl across London. Draco tensed; what if the little git managed to make it across the blanket? What would he do with him then?

Crouching down on his knees Draco was tense, ready for the challenge of NOT letting Potter smack his stupid scarhead on the floor. The dumb baby bounced awkwardly in Sirius' hands, gurgling away and getting ready to move -only to sink onto his face the instant his guardian let go. Draco almost chuckled a little at the baby's antics. Sirius scooped the child up and cradled him, pecking a prickly kiss on the kid's cheek. "It's alright, kid, you'll get it in no time."

"How old was he when he first crawled?"

Sirius chuckled again. "About ten months."

"Is that ... Good?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Baby-Potter babbled some nonsense, his tiny fist plucking at the blanket.

Lupin came back out and carried Teddy over to the blanketed area. He frowned as sat down. "Sirius he won't be able to crawl for another two weeks at least. Don't rush him."

"Oh hush Remus," Sirius chided. "He'll turn one before I know it. I don't want to miss anything!"

Lupin rolled his eyes and settled Teddy up against his legs. The baby would have flopped over if the ex-professor hadn't held him quickly under the arms. "I'm not even going to pull at that thread, Paddy. Now, are you capable of caring for two infants?"

"Of course I am. Wait ... why?"

"I need Draco's help to prepare lunch for us."

Draco's head snapped up at the statement and before he could object, Lupin had handed his son to Sirius and whilst watching the curly-haired juggle two brats was funny, Draco felt his stomach sink like a cold weight inside him as Lupin gestured for him to follow. He did as he was told, slinking back towards the house and following the older man into the kitchen.

"Why did you need me to come and help you?" Draco asked as he rolled his sleeves up and stood next to the counter. He looked at the number of ingredients laid out and felt dread. Was this ... their lunch?

"I didn't," Lupin said as he drew out a long, sharp knife. Draco flinched away, eyes wide. Lupin lowered the knife onto the counter and squeezed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Calm down, we're just making some food."

Draco swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Now I want you to take the other knife and start chopping up those vegetables."

Draco took the knife and felt it tremble in his hand. Suddenly his hand was drenched in blood -not his, but someone's. He dropped the knife with a sharp clattering sound. Granite tiles changed instantly to the wood work-top and the rough floors were now smooth terracotta. There was no blood. It was all in his head.

 _'Breathe_ ,' he urged himself,  _'just breathe!_ '

"Draco?" Why was Lupin's voice so far away? "Draco, look at me."

A hand came into view and gently took the knife away. The relief was surreal. A shiver ran through him as he was steered towards a chair at the table and lowered onto the seat. Lupin came into view. "Now I want you to take some deep breaths, okay, and listen to my voice." Draco nodded. "Tell me what you saw?"

"Blood ..." he said in a quivering voice. "So much blood ..."

"It's okay, it's not happening."

"I know," he choked out. "I know, I know. It's just ... it comes up sometimes ... that's all ..."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Draco." The blonde scoffed. "Trust me, I've done my fair share of awful things that haunt me."

Draco went rigid as he Lupin pulled him in for a hug. His arms were tight and secure yet somehow it didn't make Draco want to run away. He felt his head burn up, tears stinging in his eyes as he quaked on his chair. Something inside him cracked and something hot and wet raced down his cheek, followed by another, then another ...

"Hey it's okay!" Lupin caught him as he slid sideways to the edge of the chair. "I've got you, I've got you!" He grasped Draco tightly, holding him securely before easing him back against the chair, making sure that he was stable as he rubbed the teen's back. Draco clutched at Lupin's shirt, aware that his tears were staining the fabric. He choked on air, the emotions of the last few months finally breaking free.

"S-sorry ..." he choked.

"There's no need to be sorry," Lupin assured. "You've been through a lot, we all have."

"Y-you all s-seem to be han-handling it better ..."

"Maybe you've just reached your limit."

Draco didn't bother replying. He  _had_  had to deal with a lot of crap. However, as already stated, so had everyone else. His tolerance for it just seemed to be lower than the rest of the population -at least that's how it felt. As the tears subsided, Draco was aware that Lupin was still holding him. He stiffened at the realisation. The older man seemed to sense this and let go, letting himself sink back into the vacant chair.

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

Draco nodded mutely.

"Good. Do you want to go back outside?"

Shooting a glance over at the kitchen counter, the teen twisted his lips. "Don't you need help with getting everything ready?"

Lupin gave him an understanding smile. "It's okay, I think I can manage."

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

It was a still, hot night and Draco couldn't sleep.

He'd retired to his room at about 9PM.

He'd tried to do some reading but his mind wouldn't focus. His hands were aching and restless but other than touch himself, he didn't have anything else to do. His mind kept racing back to what he'd do if Sirius did take that professor position. What would he do with himself? Would the man have to floo into work everyday? What would Draco do during the days? Learn to cook the muggle way? That was an accident waiting to happen.

He sighed warily.

Floorboards creaked a little somewhere in the house.

It wasn't as upsetting as it used to be. There was a bead of comfort in knowing that he wasn't alone. It hadn't been there the previous week -but it was growing behind all that fear. He pulled the cool sheets over his chest and sighed wearily. It had been a long week filled with listlessness and milling from room to room just to try and occupy his mind. There had been a few things that had piqued his interest, however he still wasn't one hundred percent invested in learning things 'the muggle way' -as stubborn as the thought was. He hadn't even managed to write back to his mother yet. He simply hadn't had anything to say.

Soft noises came from down the hallway.

Feeling curious as well as restless, Draco clawed his sheet away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Tiptoeing out of his room he strained his ears in the darkness, his own heart drumming a little louder. He could hear a soft voice from down the hall. There was a faint light coming from underneath one of the doors. Potter's nursery. Edging along the door -trying not to step on any creaky boards -Draco crept closer. The door was ajar, letting soft gold light spill out into the dark hallway. Sirius' voice almost made him jump, but it was barely a whisper in the quiet darkness.

"And these are your parents. Now I know you don't remember them, really, but this is your Mummy Lily and this is your Daddy James."

Draco felt his heart twist in his chest. Potter's parents. He hadn't even known their names. Shame flooded through him as he leaned heavily on the wall as he realised the magnitude of that thought.  _He hadn't even known their names_. It was a harrowing thought.

"Now who's this goofy sod pulling those faces?" Sirius asked. The brat bubbled. "Yes, that's me, your daft old godfather. Now who's the moody one?" Another gurgle. "You're right! That's Uncle Remy!"

Draco's insides clenched.

"Now who's that snotty little thing there?" Sirius chuckled. "No, that can't be you can it? Harry you were such a litte rugrat."

There was silence for a few moments. Draco was just debating on dragging himself back to bed when -

"You can stop hovering and just come in, Draco."

Freezing against the wall, Draco felt sick, before resigning himself to his fate. Pushing the door open he had the decency to look sheepish as he edged just inside the nursery. "How did you know I was there?"

Sirius tapped the side of his nose without looking up. "I can smell you."

"Ew."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius beckoned the teen over. "I'm an animagus, kid. My sense of smell and hearing are better than most human's these days. Now pull up a chair."

Casting a glance around the room, Draco located a small stool and dragged it closer towards the rocking chair that Sirius was leaning back in. He felt ridiculous being barely elbow-level with the older man, but he held his tongue. Craning his neck a little he saw that Sirius was leafing through a thick, leather-bound photo album. Sirius smiled and clicked his fingers, causing the stool to spring a little higher. Draco grumbled his disapproval at non-verbal magic but didn't argue. He was too curious to care.

"What made you want to look through these?" he asked as Sirius turned the page.

"Harry was grumbling a little and was awake, so I thought this might calm him down."

"Is it working?"

Sirius glanced down at the baby snuggled in the crook of his arm, his large green eyes drooping a little. "Seems to be on the way."

Draco lets his eyes wonder back down to the photo. It was of two lean, dark-haired young men standing side-by-side in their 'sunday best' as mother would have described it. Draco frowned. "Who are those two?"

"That's me and my ... brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Had," Sirius bit out. "He died. Killed, rather."

Before Draco could ask about it, the older man swiftly turned the page to display a photo of a young Remus in a hospital bed. He had bandages all over him and was grinning weakly at the camera as Sirius' overly large head appeared before he dropped back onto the bed and hugged Remus.

"Why was Lupin in hospital?"

"He'd had a rough full moon and it was right before his birthday so I snuck in to cheer him up."

The next photo was of a couple in wedding attire, laughing merrily whilst Sirius and Remus grinned and toasted them. They looked happy. Draco couldn't remember his own parents having any sort of wedding photos. They had rather formal, stiff, poised photos. It was ... different. Baby-Potter yawned and nudged his chubby fists against his eyes, his lips wobbling in defeat. He was ready to sleep.

"That's enough for one night, then," Sirius whispered with a smile. He closed the book and managed to set it to one side whilst scooping Harry up in his arms. "Come on then, rugrat, let's get you into bed."

Draco suddenly felt out of place.

Sirius seemed to sense this because he beckoned Draco over to the cot. "Do you want to settle him down?" he asked.

The teen baulked at the idea. "You -you can't be serious?"

"I am. Always. Literally since birth."

It took Draco a moment to clock on. "That was just ... abysmal," he grimaced.

Sirius chuckled, "Come on, hold your hands out. You'll be fine, I promise."

"W-what if I drop him?"

"I'm amazed you care," Sirius quipped, "but for the record, I trust that you won't."

That hit a nerve. There was trembling in his right hand he could feel it. "I -uh -I don't know."

"Hold your hands out."

Draco wanted to refuse, he did, however his arms seemed to rise up of their own accord. Satisfied, Sirius held Harry out and tenderly shifted him into Draco's hands. The blonde didn't know what to do; did he cradle the brat? Did he hold him out-stretched like a quaffle? He was currently doing the latter when Sirius chuckled. "You've never held a baby before, I'm guessing?"

"Of course not!"

"Calm down, kid, I'm only teasing." Taking a squirming Harry again, Sirius adjusted the position and Draco resigned himself to his fate and cradled Harry bloody Potter. "There you go," Sirius smiled softly. "You're a natural."

Draco shot the older man a disbelieving look. He knew the Sirius was just pandering to him, however he didn't argue. It felt stiff and awkward holding the baby however those large green eyes seemed to droop instantly as though Potter was relaxed enough to sleep. Within moments the little thing was snoozing against his chest, completely oblivious to the fact that his school rival was gently swaying him a little, ensuring that he was as comfortable as he could be against two bony arms.

A chuckle came from the side of the room, making Draco jump.

"Shit I forgot you were there!" he hissed as Sirius grinned as him. "It looks like he's asleep."

Sirius nodded, "Yes it does. I told you, you could do it."

Draco rolled his eyes, a little distressed by the emptiness he felt when Potter was taken out of his arms and settled down into his cot. He watched the brat as Sirius set up a weird spinning thing over the cot and backed them out of the nursery. "I should probably head to bed," Draco said softly, not wanting to disturb Potter. The last thing he needed was a wailing baby in the middle of the night.

"If you have any more trouble sleeping and want to talk, you know where my room is," Sirius whispered, "I don't mind talking. Most nights it takes me ages to get to sleep so if you need company ..."

"Thanks," Draco said. He hoped he sounded sincere because he meant it. He was sure he did. "I think I just need to try and sleep now," he said, feeling both on edge and exhausted.

Sirius nodded. "Well you know where I am."

"Yeah ... Thanks."

They parted ways on the landing.

 

 

 

Draco listened with his ear against the door until he heard the distant 'click' of Sirius closing his own bedroom down further down the hall. He breathed a sigh of relief. Dragging his feet back to the bed, he settled down and drew the sheets over himself. He hadn't even been able to keep any of his photo albums -he could only hope that his mother kept them in her vault. The last thing he needed was his baby photos publicised in the papers.

However ... Potter had looked especially soft and squishie as a child. No wonder Voldemort was embarrassed at being defeated by someone who couldn't even wipe his own arse. The thought made him smile weakly as he reclined back on his pillows and stretched his tight muscles. He had about a month and two weeks to decide what exactly he wanted to do, and if Sirius did take the job at Hogwarts, he needed to either go back for his final year and get his qualifications, or be assigned a new guardian.

The thought was daunting.

Despite being there just over a week, the ice with Sirius and Lupin was gradually thawing. He was grateful for that and would definitely tell his mother about it first thing in the morning.

 _'Just carry-on ignoring the fact that scar-head is in a nappy right now,_ ' his brain chided. ' _You were never good at ignoring him before, why do you think it's easier now?_ '

"Well he can't answer back for one," he murmured into the dimly lit room.

 _'Yet_ ,' his brain countered.  _'He can't answer back yet. Just wait until he starts ageing, then he can be as irritating to you as he was before_.'

"Fuck!"

There was no way around it. As soon as Potter started ageing per month, as the potion claimed it would do depending on how Sirius stabilised it, then it would mean that every month Potter would age a whole year. On the one hand, it meant having a birthday party every month which was never a bad thing for Draco's sweet-tooth. However, on the other hand, it meant that Potter would start remembering all the bad shit that happened before and during the war. It meant arguments and hostility and Draco knew he wasn't ready to deal with hearing what would come out of the saviours mouth.

It would be cruel, it would be callous and it would be one hundred percent true.

No ... He knew what was coming, and it broke what little shards of a heart he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the birthday wishes, and I hope you guys enjoy the latest chapter!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

 

 

It took Draco another week before he had completely unpacked everything he'd been able to carry with him from the manor.

He had written his mother back, carefully leaving out the part about Potter being the world's soggiest brat in the process. The last thing he needed was for the Ministry to assume he had been the one to de-age the idiot and send him off to Azkaban. He was a little envious when she had reported that she was growing accustomed already to using a muggle stove. Draco had steadfastly ignored any sort of progress on his part, choosing to either avoid the kitchen until he was called down for a meal, or making sure he was nose-deep in whatever he found in his cousin's library.

However, he knew he couldn't avoid it forever.

There were so many muggle contraptions in the damned house. He knew that, sooner or later, he was going to break something of value without even realising it. Like that evil black thing in the front parlour that had strange moving pictures in it. It reminded Draco of a pensive, but some of the things didn't make sense. What the hell was a McDonald's anyway? And why were people loving it so much?

Other parts of living at Grimmauld place weren't too bad. Sirius was of course busy with baby-Potter, a fact that Draco still found himself uneasy about. After his realisation that Potter would one day grow up again and remember all their fights, Draco had ensured that he interacted as little as possible with the stink-bucket. For now, it worked. Potter was a baby and could barely crawl let alone chase Draco down. The problems would start in a few months when more memories came back to him.

He was not looking forward to that.

The weather was growing gradually hotter outside as the summer intensified. It would have been around this time of year that Draco could go swimming in the pool at the manor within hours of getting off the train at Kings Cross. Here, there was no such luxury. Sirius had spent the morning blowing air into some weird, blue rubbery thing and then filled it with a shallow level of water. He'd sloshed around in it with Potter, earning excitable squeals from the lump, before he'd gotten too tired.

It was one a particularly hot afternoon that Sirius found Draco in the front parlous, lounging in an armchair and doing some casual reading about magical creatures of all things. He'd spent all day keeping away from the windows, not wanting to be in direct sunlight. He was wearing some of his usual, pressed attire but it was becoming unbearable in the heat. The fabric did not breathe against his skin and it left his lungs feeling too hot to sustain air. Sirius cleared his throat, causing Draco to flinch.

"I wondered where you were hiding," he said.

"Well you found me," Draco snipped, closing the book with a glare at his cousin.

Sirius gave him a once-over and frowned. "Are you comfortable in that? What you're wearing?"

Draco glanced down at himself. It was true his black slacks and white pressed shirt weren't the most casual of clothing, however anything else he owned that wasn't winter-wear, was still just as thick as his current outfit. He bristled with humiliation. He should be used to that sting by now.

"Do you want us to go into town and find you something easier to wear?"

"I don't need any hand-outs," he sneered, opening his book back and bowing his head.

"This is hardly a hand-out," Sirius said. "Even I had to change out of my usual clothes today." He paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "It'll only get worse as the summer progresses."

"Thanks but I don't really think a shopping trip is going to cheer me up," Draco sneered bitterly.

"It's hardly a shopping spree," Sirius said. "Just something more weather-appropriate."

"I'm fine as I am."

Even as he said those words the prickly hit rushed over his chest and down his back in a sickly wave. He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for the nausea to subside before refocusing on the words before him.

"Come on," his cousin urged. "Look, let's just grab you some jeans and a few t-shirts. Something loose. You'll feel better."

Draco sighed and rubbed at his temples. He was getting a migraine. "Fine," he sighed, "Whatever gets you to stop whining at me. However, I want you to be aware that I'm doing this under protest."

"Duly noted," Sirius intoned. "Now, get yourself ready. As soon as I get Harry dressed, we can head out!"

As the door to the parlour swung shut, Draco groaned. Why did Potter have to come? Then he kicked himself. The little snot-monster was barely a year old yet, there was no way he could be left alone. Draco did not enjoy the idea of being stuck in a hot, sweaty muggle shop with a bawling brat and his manic cousin. It was a recipe for disaster.

However, a plan had been made and he had no power to sway the matter in his favour.

Resigning himself to his fate, he plucked at the fabric sticking to his skin and wondered out into the hallway to put his shoes on and make himself look presentable. If there were any reporter's from the Daily Prophet about to stalk him around London, then at the very least he didn't want to look too dishevelled and le them think that the world had beaten him at last. Sirius came down the stairs within five minutes, wearing a t-shirt and weird blue trousers instead of his usual collared attired and pressed trousers. Draco wrinkled his nose but bit his tongue. Potter was strapped to his cousins' chest with a weird contraption, a little yellow sunhat sitting neatly on his head.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, slipping his feet into the most hideous, white rubber shoes Draco had ever seen, and pocketing his wand and keys.

"Yes," he bit out.

"Don't be like that," the older man chided. "You'll feel better I promise."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I won't put you in the oven."

Draco blinked at the statement and grumbled. "You know, threatening me with muggle objects will stop working one day."

"Not any time soon if you keep moping around with your books!" Sirius called as he hopped briskly down the steps to the pavement. Draco hesitated before stepping out into the sunlight and pulling the heavy door shut behind him. Charms hummed through the wood, locking and bolting it from the inside. Envy stirred in his gut. He missed being able to do magic. Following Sirius' lead, Draco descended the concrete steps, pausing only briefly before stepping down onto the pavement. He felt the wards shudder as he left the safety of the house. Glancing back over his shoulder, he was both unsurprised and disappointed at losing sight of Number Twelve. He knew it was still there … but still. It left him feeling hollow.

He hastened to catch up with Sirius.

The sun baked him alive through the thick fibres of his sleek white shirt. He felt illuminated, letting all wizards around London know where he was. He was a walking target. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He kept pace with Sirius as much as he could. "So where are we going?" he groused, clasping his hand behind his back.

"We're going into London. We only need a few things for you for now."

The answer was especially vague and irked Draco. He held his tongue. Every time he shot Sirius a look, his eyes would catch on Potter's chubby little face half-hidden under the yellow sun-hat. He was fast sleep right now.

Sirius marched him through numerous streets. They were long, baking in the hot sun and as they moved through them, Draco became aware of more muggles cluttering up the walkway. There was so much tan skin exposed; dark flowing hair, large sunglasses hiding half their faces, and large, bulging bags that looked as though they were about to burst open on the road. Draco felt hot and irritable as tall buildings with glass fronts came into view. Stationary mannequins appeared on display in numerous outfits.

To his utter horror, Sirius took a sharp left into one of the shops.

Draco cast a look up at the sign above the door, the sun in his eyes, and grimaced before reluctantly following inside. The wave of cool air was refreshing as it hit him out of nowhere. He whipped around trying to find the source and failing. He froze in place, a bead of sweat racing down the side of his face.

"Draco?"

He spun around to face Sirius. He swallowed thickly. "S-sorry."

"Just wondered where you'd gone," Sirius motioned for him to follow him towards a sterile white staircase. The sign next to the foot of the stairs read 'MENS' with an arrow pointing up. Sirius waited for him as he mounted the steps. He curled an arm under Potter's chubby little legs and cocked his head to the side. The mannequins were smooth, white, blank figures on podiums. It made Draco feel so uneasy he could barely focus on the clothes until he walked into a rack.

His cheeks heated up.

Sirius smirked but didn't say anything. "So what colours do you like?" he asked instead.

"What?" the blonde frowned.

"To wear," Sirius said. "No offence to you, kid, you can't go around wearing black in the level of heat we're going to get."

"What're you, a seer now?"

"No, I watch the news."

"The what?"

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "I'll show you later. For now; we need to pick you out some clothes."

Draco picked at the closest thing to him and wrinkled his nose. "The fabric is so  _cheap_!"

"It's thin, which is good for the hot weather," Sirius replied in a neutral tone. "Come on. I'm not doing this all myself."

With a sigh, Draco resigned himself to his fate. He leafed through all the basic tops and tees, feeling his insides cramp with discomfort at the cheap fabric, the gaudy designs and the hideous styles. He wouldn't be caught dead in any of this muggle rubbish. However, he couldn't just make his clothes bearable with a cooling charm, and neither Sirius nor Remus had volunteered. As he browsed through rack to rack, he came across a single faded green t-shirt that had a graphic outline of a snake striking with its fangs extended. Reluctantly, he plucked the hanger up, along with a blue t-shirt with a similar design of a Chinese dragon on it, before craning his neck up to see where Sirius had gotten to.

Unsurprisingly, he'd wandered over to the baby section.

Draco grimaced, his skin feeling hot and itchy in his current attire, as he walked across the glossy white floor to where Sirius was leafing through the pint-sized outfits. As he drew closer he could hear Sirius talking to the brat as he wriggled in the holster strapped to Black's chest.

"Harry you need to choose; blue bunnies or green dinosaurs?"

Whatever Potter did in response, it made the older man chuckle and hang one of the outfits back on the miniature rack.

"Bunnies it is." As he turned, Sirius' eyes landed on Draco. "Ah, there you are. Have you picked some things out?"

Draco indicated the two shirts with a bored expression.

"Great. I grabbed some shorts and cut-off's for you and a few vests, in case we go out somewhere hotter than here."

Draco cocked an eyebrow but didn't comment on the absurdity of the idea.

"Let's get you a changing room so you can try it on."

"W-what?" Draco blanched. "Why do I need to do that here?"

"So we can see what fits you before we buy it?"

"They don't just take your measurements and get the size that fits?"

Sirius had a bemused expression on his face. "No, Draco, they don't. Just try these on. If they don't fit you, let me know and I'll get you a different size."

Draco frowned. Sirius motioned for him to turn and head towards the changing rooms. It felt like he was walking towards his doom. The last time he'd felt so much dread was when his father had called him down because the Dark Lord had wanted his attendance at a meeting during his fifth summer in Hogwarts. A chill ran down his spine, he saw black spots and the heat rushed over him, boiling his blood and making his ears ring.

His foot slipped on the glossed floor and the air rushed past him. He had a moment of panic before something hard gripped his arm. Sirius shot him a concerned look, not the infuriating displeasure he was so used to from his father. Eyes darting around, Draco tried to see how many people had witnessed his idiocy.

No one … No one had noticed.

No one was looking at them, noticed them.

It was like being invisible. For the first time in his life, Draco was close to tears with relief. Not that he'd shed them in public. Drawing in a deep breath, he shook Sirius' grip off his arm, took the items from his cousin and marched the rest of the way towards the changing rooms. He was glad there was a sign directing him otherwise he would've gotten lost.

"How many items?" the bored-looking girl asked at the small counter.

He frowned at her, sweat smeared across his skin. For a moment his mind went blank before she gestured at the items in his arms. "F-five?"

She snatched a coloured tag off the counter and handed it to him. "Men's are down the end and to the left."

Draco barely processed the directions before her attention was dragged elsewhere. If he hadn't been so humiliated at his own foolishness, he would have snapped at her sheer graceless appearance and rude manners. However, he was not in the mood. Swallowing his pride, he stalked down and to the left as instructed.

He found an empty cubicle and went inside, drawing the blue velour curtain shut behind him.

Now that he had a moment alone, he let the emotions wash through him. He huddled over on the narrow seat, his insides cramping as he dropped his head into his hands. What was he doing here in a muggle shop of all places? He needed to be amongst his own kind! He needed other wizards and magic, owls that dropped off letters and his mother asking if he'd like to join her for afternoon tea on the veranda.

This … This was a nightmare.

Choking back against the lump in his throat, he cuffed at his eyes and drew in some long breaths before steeling himself. The mirror glared back at him with red-rimmed eyes and bright pink blotches on his cheek and neck from the heat. There was a cool breeze coming from somewhere in the changing rooms. Forcing himself to his feet, Draco unfastened the buttons of his shirt and trousers and gingerly stepped out of them, folding them and setting them aside on the hard bench.

Standing in a cotton vest and boxer-shorts, he winced at his reflection; it was clear he hadn't eaten properly in months, his knees had always been a little too knobbly for his liking, and his hips and collar bones protruded a little too much. Pursing his lips, he stepped into the shorts and pulled one of the t-shirts on over his head.  
He grimaced at his reflection; the fabric felt almost as cheap as it was and –despite not fully understanding muggle-money –it was clear that they over-charged for some of this rubbish. With a sigh, he reached for the next item. Within twenty minutes he was sweating profusely from pulling various items in various fabrics on over his head. That was it, he'd tried them all on and had settled on four of said five. That should shut his cousin up for the time being.

 

Stepping out of the changing rooms, handing the number tag and rejected item back to the snooty girl, Draco grimaced at the grin on Sirius' face as he bounced Potter in the chest-harness. "What're you grinning at?" he snapped.

"Just wondered what took you so long."

"Whatever," Draco sneered. "Where and how do I pay for this shit?"

"Relax, I'll do it. Why don't you go and wait outside?"

"No thanks," the blonde muttered, falling into step alongside his cousin as they went up to a large white desk.

Sirius handed the items over the counter and the guy behind it used some strange white tool to shine a red light on each price tag. The total flashed in green numbers on a small screen that was eye-level. When the total flashed up as £22.97, Draco had barely started working out the conversion to galleons, before Sirius thrust a bag against his chest and said a loud 'thank you!' to the person who had served them.

 

 

 

 

Back out on the street, Draco swept the damp hair from his face and glowered at the crowds milling by. He clutched the slippery bag in one hand, his knuckles flashing white as Sirius teased the baby snot-rag.

"So where're we going now?" Draco bit out, forcing Sirius' attention back to him for a moment. "I don't fancy getting sunburned just because you have the attention space of a gnat."

"Charming as ever," Sirius commented. "How about a bookshop. That's easy enough, isn't it?"

Draco shot his cousin a glare.

"Of course, none of the books will hand themselves to you, but they won't bite you either so … it's a win-win in some cases." Without another word, Sirius led the way towards a large bookstore. Draco didn't even bother reading the name of the shop, it wouldn't mean anything to him anyway. The air was cool, smelling of paper and ink. It had an instant calming effect on Draco as his eyes landed on the numerous shelves. Sirius nudged him forward and his feet did the rest.

He found himself wandering over to the 'Fantasy' section, intrigued by what muggles termed 'fantasy' in general, and also by how overly designed their bookcovers seemed to be. Unlike in most magical bookshops, their covers didn't move but then he'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was that their covers would be so … graphic. Feeling disturbed at being so intrigued, he bent down so that he could scan the spines. One or two books he'd pluck out, reading the back of it –really? Did muggles need to read a summary of the books they bought? –and examined the covers; some were wildly exaggerated like ones by that Prachett guy, whilst others had awful summaries and even worse cover designs like that 'Twilight' nonsense; why would he read a book about a guy who liked apples and liked blood?

He'd read scarier rhymes when he'd been an infant.

Eventually, Sirius came looking for him. Potter was starting to fuss so clearly that meant it was time to go back to Grimmauld Place. Draco felt his insides twist at the thought; he loathed to admit that he'd liked spending time in the unusually quiet book shop, simply taking his time and not making a total prat of himself. He sighed; the summer was barely beginning. There would be more than enough time to go back to the bookstore if he really wanted to.

 

 

 

 

Once back at the house, the wards activating as soon as they'd stepped through, Sirius flicked his wand at the door. A series of locks slid into place, flooding Draco with the realisation that he was a prisoner in this house, regardless of how he was told to view it. His palm started to sweat again from where he gripped the bag with his new, muggle clothes inside.

Vanishing the chest harness, Sirius balanced baby Potter against his hip before turning to Draco. "Why don't you go up and have a shower, hm? Then change into some fresh clothes, whilst I give Harry some lunch."

Draco nodded mutely.

"Then, if you fancy it, Kreacher can make us something to eat as well."

"Um … I'm not feeling too hungry," Draco averted his gaze. He felt emotionally exhausted and barely had the energy to stand upright as he did, let alone forced down food and make conversation at the same time. "I might just take a nap. Too much sun."

It was lame; so transparent that he knew Sirius didn't believe the words as they tumbled out. However, the older man didn't argue or berate him for his bullshit. He simply adjusted his grip on Potter, who was currently trying to eat his own fist with no teeth, and inclined his head. "Very well," Sirius said. "You know where I am if you need anything later, then."

"I do." He started to ascend the stairs but stopped halfway to the landing. There was a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother snapping at him for forgetting his manners. Gripping the banister, he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, Sirius. For taking me out today."

Sirius looked up at him, bemused, but gave a tight smile in return. "It's okay, Draco. Try and get some rest. I might have Remus and Teddy over for dinner tonight, so you're welcome to join."

A rejection was on the tip of his tongue, however he stopped himself. Swallowing past his pride Draco simply replied, "I'll think about it. If I feel better I may join you."

"Suit yourself," was Sirius' final word as he turned to go into the kitchen. Potter's wide green eyes peeked over Sirius' shoulder up at the blonde before the door swung closed between them.

Draco stared at the closed door for a while before reanimating and climbing the rest of the way towards one of the bathrooms. He needed to wash the day and humiliation off of him if he was going to attempt to face his cousin again. As the hot shower hit his naked body, Draco shuddered at the thought that one day, a very grown-up Potter would come to him and laugh at him for having nearly fainted in a muggle clothes shop.

He grit his teeth and ducked his head under the stream of water.

He needed to get out of this situation, and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who loves baby Harry? x


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 

 

 

The end of July had them celebrating Potter's 'first' birthday.

Somehow Draco had gotten dragged into helping prepare –a notion he found completely abhorrent. This was one of the things Potter definitely wouldn't remember. Other than from photos, how many people truly recounted their first sodding birthday? Still, the blonde was instructed to clean some of the downstairs rooms manually as well as set-up the table. There was no telling who exactly was going to show up to the sham this event was, however Draco had to concede that it would have been foolish for his cousin NOT to tell anyone else about Potter's current predicament.

Then again, Sirius was a reckless man. There was no telling what he would or wouldn't do.

With a sigh, Draco sank into one of the kitchen chairs, grimacing at the sickeningly 'cute' décor he'd been forced to string-up. Lots of brightly coloured balloons and streamers clung to any high surface and the table had a freshly laundered cloth spread over it, with paper plates –who the hell invented  _those_? –and weird bendy white utensils. Muggles were a strange,  _ugly_  breed. Yet, when Sirius came down from changing Potter  _again_ , he had a pleased look on his face.

Draco grumbled as his cousin clapped his on the shoulder. He shrugged the hand off, not wanting to be thanked for such rubbish. He didn't even know who else was coming to this thing, other than Remus and his own little snot-bucket. Judging by the number of plates and the size of the cake being kept in the pantry, he could only imagine it was going to be more than ten people.

The thought made a prickly heat rush over his skin.

He told himself it was his starched shirt. He'd dressed in his usual attire as a manner of principle. Just because he couldn't do magic didn't mean he was going to surrender and wear the muggle tat Sirius had bought for him. Still, he unfastened the top button and fanned himself a little when his cousin had his back turned.

"Are you going to join us when everyone else is down here?" Sirius asked as he spoon-fed Potter some sort of orange mush from a jar.

Draco grimaced as Potter dribbled it down his front. Wrinkling his nose he shook his head. "I don't know who else is coming but I think it'd be best for me to keep out of everyone's way."

"Draco, there's no time like the present to start making a good impression."

Letting out a mirthless laugh, Draco stood up from his seat. "The only reason no one would feel physically threatened by me, is because the Prophet had a field day saying that I could not use any magic whilst under house-arrest. I'd rather take my chances bathing that little mandrake before facing whatever cretins you've invited."

Sirius rolled his eyes at the use of language from the blonde teen. He was angry, hot and restless. Like a cage animal, he'd lash out at anything even if it was someone offering a good meal and companionship. "I'd have thought anyone with your sweet-tooth would have loved to dig-into the chocolate cake I bought."

"I can have chocolate sodding cake whenever I damn well please!" he sneered. "I don't have to celebrate Potty's birthday to do that!"

Sirius sighed and scooped up some carrot-goo from Potter's chin. "Well no one else is going to arrive until 2pm. Why don't you go to your room and cool off for a bit? You must be dying in that outfit."

Draco glowered at the man currently wearing thin slacks and a loose fitting shirt. He did look cooler than Draco felt but he wasn't about to admit to that. "Whatever," he said. Turning on his heel he left the kitchen.

As he mounted the stairs, he stretched his arms above his head and worked the kinks out before kicking his bedroom door open. Nothing had really changed in here, except for the single photo of him ad his parents that he kept on the nightstand. Guests would arrive in a few hours. That meant he had just enough time to get some reprieve from this heat, if only for a little while. Unfastening his shirt, he clawed it off over his head and sighed in relief as cooler air drifted over him.

His slacks came off next.

Standing in just his underwear, Draco spun in a slow circle, his eyes fixed on the mirror at the other end of the room. Nope, still skin and bone and just as pale. He didn't know what he expected to see, but the reality always seemed to make him catch his breath. Swallowing thickly, his gut grumbled at the thought of that large, chocolate cake just waiting to be eaten. Then a wave of nausea rushed down his throat and made his insides squirm.

Probably best to avoid that.

Climbing up onto the bed, Draco felt the hairs all over his body stand up at the coolness of the cotton. Rolling over onto his back he stretched out, knots loosening in his joints as he flexed his fingers and toes, staring up at the dark ceiling over his head. This room never seemed to get much light, which was a blessing considering how hot the rest of the house was.

He soon fell asleep in the cool room, not caring if he ever woke up again, let alone for Saint Potter's birthday.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Sirius wiped Harry's chin and dropped a kiss onto the sleek cap of black hair. It was hard to believe that when he grew up, it would still be the same wild mess as before. Not that he minded. He'd missed so much of Harry's experiences growing-up that even arguing over a decent haircut was going to seem like pure magic to him. He sighed, wishing that the timing of his current state of affairs was better organised. Handling Harry was one thing, but Draco was something he wasn't sure how to handle. He did his best, taking as much advice from Remus as the man was willing to give, but there was only so much other people could offer.

"What're we going to do with that boy, eh?" he asked as he lifted Harry out of his high-chair.

The baby blew a raspberry, his chubby little legs kicking in the air.

Sirius chuckled, cradling the alert baby to his chest. The last few weeks had been so surreal to him. Despite how ill-prepared Remus thought he was, he'd managed to handle Harry quite well before Draco had come into the picture. He'd figured out how to change a nappy with only two mishaps and he'd watched Lily prepare Harry's bottle for feeding all those years ago. The rest he'd admittedly had to wing-it, however so far there had been no problems caring for Harry.

Draco on the other hand.

He was in a state of denial. It was almost like he expected to wake up each morning in Malfoy Manor again. The rest of his day seemed to go downhill from there.

Glancing over at the calendar, Sirius felt a weight settle in his chest. A few more days and he'd need to take Draco to his first counselling session. He'd asked to postpone it to allow Draco some time to adjust to being in a new living environment, however their leniency had only pushed the ordeal back a month. Something tickled at the back of his mind; therapy would no doubt have been a miracle after he'd escaped from Azkaban. He'd barely had time to breathe before the Second War came about. He was lucky that he still had Remus by his side.

_Oh, Remus._

The man was too lenient, too caring and too easy on Sirius –far easier than he actually deserved. He had done some stupid things in his time –granted escaping from Azakaban was still the top of the list –however allowing Harry to de-age himself was coming a close second.

Bouncing Harry in his arms, he stroked his thumb over the pudgy cheek and cast a glance around the kitchen. Despite himself, and Draco's lack of magic, the kitchen did look cheery enough to resemble a child's birthday. He needed to make a point of thanking the blonde teen as soon as the last guest left.

Harry grizzled against his chest.

"Oh alright you bubbly little thing," Sirius grinned. "Let's get you dressed and all handsome for when everyone arrives!"

He carried the infant up to the little nursery room he'd made out of one of the spare rooms next to his own bedchamber. He thought it best not to mention to Draco that he was currently sleeping in Harry's old room. Settling Harry on the changing table, he flicked his wand and three of the finest little baby outfits levitated out of the nearby drawer and hovered in the air. Harry chirruped with laughter, clapping his little hands as he tried to reach for the clothes.

Sirius chuckled, "Well which one do you prefer? Dragons? Unicorns? Or pygmy puffs?"

Harry gurgled.

"Pygmy puffs? Really?" Sirius frowned. When Harry wriggled with delight, the man chuckled. "Alright, you're the boss, kid. Pygmy puffs it is!"

Within forty minutes the cavalry had arrived.

That meant Remus, Teddy, Andromeda –who was not entirely approving of their situation –and Molly and Arthur Weasley, even though he didn't entirely approve of the woman's parenting style. The kitchen was adorned with fairy-lights twinkling everywhere and the table was laden with food. Harry was settled in the highchair, gleefully clapping and grabbing at the colourful robes people were wearing and the gifts presented in-front of him.

Draco remained in his room.

It seemed easier that way, so that they could get the party over and done with by the time he awoke from his nap.

Once Harry had eaten his food, Sirius extracted him from the high-chair and bounced him on his lap. Remus was next to him and saw that the man had a slightly awkward grip on the infant in his hands. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on Sirius' wrist. The smile shot his way made him flush a little. He readjusted his grip on Teddy nestled comfortably in his lap.

Molly came over and settled down in the chair beside Sirius. Remus watched as his friend tensed up, his jaw setting a little tighter as the ginger woman reached out for Harry. "Sirius, I still can't understand what the point of all this is," she stated.

"Birthday's are meant to be celebrated, Molly," he replied. There was a bite in his voice as Harry was taken from his lap and positioned on Molly's plump one. Wooly flowers were suddenly surrounding Harry as he leaned back against her bossom.

"I didn't mean the birthday, Sirius. I think this is incredibly ridiculous. You need to write to someone at the Ministry and just explain what happened so that they can make Harry the right age again."

"Molly let's not discuss this here okay," Remus cautioned.

"Well why not? We're all here. We can talk some sense into the man."

Sirius bristled, his fingers tightening into fists.

If there was one thing Sirius hated more than anything, was being told that he wasn't good enough. He'd fought in the war, he'd seen his entire life end in the span of a single night, and he'd spent twelve years believing that all those whom he'd loved dearly, thought him a murderer.

He was more than sane. He was the most rational he'd even been in his adult life. He was taking this seriously; why could no one trust him?

Molly didn't seem to notice the change in his demeanour, however Remus and Andromeda did. Swooping into the situation in a mass of brunette curls, Andromeda announced loudly that it was time for the birthday cake. Sirius released a breath under his nose as Andromeda stealthily shifted Harry back into his high chair. Flicking her wand, she levitated the cake from the counter and slowly coaxed it over to float in front of Harry. Arthur dimmed the lights and Sirius knelt down beside Harry so that they were almost cheek-to-cheek.

"Ready kid?" he grinned as Harry gnawed on his chubby little fist.

Altogether, they started singing 'Happy Birthday'. Harry, of course, had no idea what was going on but he was more than happy to stare around as the grown-ups chimed his name.

"Time to blow out the candles!" Sirius gave the baby a tickle under his chin. Harry squealed excitedly.

Sirius and Remus helped to blow out the candles.

Harry blew a spit bubble.

Everyone applauded with adoring laughter, even Molly.

Sirius had been there for Harry's original first birthday. This time around there were a few more people, some newer faces, however Harry still looked as happy as he had been the first time around. He couldn't wait to get the photos developed tomorrow, once all the decorations were tidied away.

~0~

Draco awoke to the sound of crying.

It was faint and if he hadn't woken up to go to the bathroom he wouldn't have heard it at all.

Swerving away from the bathroom door, he made his way down the hallway, the boards creaking a little as he walked. The door to Potter's nursery was ajar and he could hear Sirius' gruff voice, tired from sleep, trying to soothe the brat back to sleep. Folding his arms against his chest, Draco leaned back against the wall beside the doorframe, listening as Sirius paced in the room.

Was he trying to rock Potter back to sleep?

It couldn't be that late, not really. The sky seemed to only just be darkening outside the landing window. It could only be 9PM the latest. Why was Potter still awake?

That's when it clicked.

Potter had just turned one. That meant that he'd be ageing another year over-night. By the sounds of it, it was just as pad as re-growing one's bones with skele-grow. Draco shuddered at the thought. He did not envy the brat.

" _Come on, kiddo, I know it's painful but you just need to relax_."

Sneaking a peak through the gap in the door, Draco watched as the older man rubbed his face, trying to stay awake long enough to get Potter settled. As he watched the red-faced infant whimper and drool onto his godfather's arm, Draco couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. There had been many memories from his parents that consisted of him being left to his own devices, to squawl into the night for hours on end. Self-soothing, it was called. Bullshit was a more preferable term.

Merlin, was he really jealous of Potter as a  _baby_?

Rubbing the back of his neck, he let out a soft sigh. He needed to get back to bed, despite having slept the entire afternoon away. He felt a little guilty at having missed the party completely, however with the people who had been invited, he knew he wouldn't have been welcome.

Even though one of them was his own aunt.

He didn't notice that Potter had settled down until the nursery door swung open. Sirius stopped short when he saw Draco standing there. They stared at each other for a moment before Sirius raised a finger to his lips and pulled the door to. The hallway was in total darkness for a while until Sirius flicked his wand. The small, pearly-blue light stung Draco's eyes. He had only just adjusted to the eerie glow before realising that Sirius was already making his way down into the kitchen. He had no choice but to follow.

Once in the kitchen, Sirius illuminated the low-hanging light and set about pouring two glasses of chilled milk and honey. Setting the glasses on the table, Draco shot the older man an inquisitive look at the chosen beverage.

"It settles the mind," Sirius stated, his voice rough and dry.

"Rough night?" Draco asked.

The older man sighed. "It really shouldn't have been. The party went well, Harry didn't fuss too much and I got through the entire evening without strangling Molly Weasley."

"A feat in itself," Draco remarked.

"Hmmm," Sirius hummed, shooting his cousin a glance. "They all left before 7pm. Poor thing fell straight to sleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last few hours, I was just too tired to notice." Leaning forward, head in his hands he groaned. "I'm such a shit father-figure."

Draco blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I … I don't think you've been doing a bad job."

Sirius gave a dry laugh. "Whatever you say, kid."

"Honestly," Draco continued. "You've definitely improved since I first arrived. At least you don't drink when the brat's awake. That's something."

Sirius scoffed. "Shouldn't be drinking at all."

"Well … I'm sure even your parents drank at some point when you were little."

They lapsed into silence.

Draco hugged his arms around himself.

"There's still some cake in the pantry if you fancy a piece of it," Sirius mumbled. It almost sounded like he was talking just to fill the silence.

The blonde teen sipped at his milk, decided he liked it, and continued to drink.

"I'm going to have to sort out a reply for old Moggie in the morning," he groaned. "I am not looking forward to that conversation."

"Moggie?"

"McGonagall. She's a cat. Get it?"

Draco rolled his eyes and focused on his drink.

"Have you thought about your therapy session at all?"

That shocked a response out of him. Spluttering, he wiped his mouth on a napkin and glowered up through his blonde fringe. "The only reason I'm going to talk about mental issues that do not exist, is because the Ministry has stated it's part of my parole. That's all. Don't think I'm about to come back with a renewed outlook on the world."

Sirius shot him a wry smile. "I wouldn't dream of it. However, your first appointment is this Thursday. I'll be escorting you."

"Who's going to handle the snot-bucket?"

"Remus has kindly offered to look after Harry since this is a 'special circumstance'. He's also made it very clear it will not be a regular thing, so you'd better get used to being around messy things that scream too loud."

"I lived with Pansy in the Slytherin dorms for six years. I think I can handle Potter."

"We'll see about that."

The smirk Sirius wore as he eyed Draco over their glasses of milk, was enough to make the blonde's blood freeze in his veins. That look was something he had only seen on two other people's face before in his entire life. Usually, when they wore that sort of mischievous grin, it meant there was going to be a lot of drama, a lot of screaming and no doubt something to do with loud, colourful explosives.

Whatever Sirius had in mind, it did not bode well for Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, what's Sirius planning?


	8. Chapter 7

**_Chapter Seven_ **

 

 

 

 

Draco was up and ready by half six in the morning. He hadn't slept too well, not with his impending therapy lesson hanging over his head. He felt irritable as he sat at the kitchen table, straining his ears for the first sign that his cousin was awake. He could hear Potter grizzling away without a care in the world. He'd had a single, harrowing moment, where he actually thought that Potter had the right idea in de-aging himself.

It was a good thing he was going to see a therapist.

He was worried that he was going to have someone who slipped under the radar and wasn't a 'neutral party' as he'd been assured they were.

Remus came through the floo in the front parlour. The noise was so sudden it made Draco leap out of his chair, sweat breaking out over his flushed skin. As soon as he saw that it was Remus, his heart settled down, although he still felt wound tighter that a spring.

"You wouldn't have an iced tea would you?" Remus asked, rubbing a hand down his face. "I thought I was going to be late."

"No, it's fine," Draco stated, his jaw tense. "I don't even know if Sirius is awake yet."

Remus rolled his eyes as he went over to the fridge and poured himself an iced tea. "Would you like one?" he asked, his hand hovering over a second glass. Draco was about to refuse, however the blooming heat of the day suddenly rendered him parched. He swallowed drily and gave a stiff nod.

"Thanks," he said as Remus handed him the glass.

He cast a sideways glance at the amber-eyed man and couldn't help but think that, if it wasn't for his sheer shabbiness and the scars, he'd be an attractive man. The thought made his insides twist violently. The taste of the tea was suddenly acrid on his tongue.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, a welcome distraction.

"Look who's here, Harry! It's Uncle Moony!" Sirius exclaimed as he threw open the kitchen door, bouncing the baby in his arms.

Draco looked up at his cousin and barely suppressed a sneer. Today he'd dressed in pressed slacks and a beige shirt with a caramel brocade waistcoat over the top. The suggestion of a pocket-watch chain glinted in his pocket. Potter, for his part, was dressed in a pair of berry red dungarees and a bright blue t-shirt. The dungarees has a little fuzzy snitch embroidered on the front pocket.

"I didn't think you two were awake yet," Remus stated as he took a drink from his glass. He looked especially muggle in a pair of threadbare jeans fastened with a shabby leather belt. He had a striped shirt on underneath a thin knit cardigan.

"Why are you too so dressed up?" Draco croaked. "It's one of the hottest summer's we've ever had and you two are wearing  _layers_!"

Remus and Sirius shared a bemused look at his outburst. Remus reached out and took Harry from his guardian, easily balancing him on his hip and pulling faces to make the silly brat laugh. Sirius slid into the chair adjacent to Draco and levelled his gaze on him.

"You know if you ever get uncomfortable with the heat, Draco, you can ask either one of us to put a cooling charm on you."

Draco felt his cheeks flush an uglier shade of pink. "I just don't understand why you'd walk around dressed like that at all!" he gestured at his cousin's clothes. "Aren't we going to have to walk through muggle London?"

"A little, yes."

"So what's wrong with those weird clothes you bought me the other week?"

"If you feel better in those, you can wear whatever you like. I'm only wearing this because I needed to go to the bank afterwards and those goblins get very funny when someone walks in wearing denim."

Draco averted his gaze, humiliation staining his ears red.

Truthfully, the basic cotton t-shirts and cut-off 'jeans' did feel better to wear than his stiff slacks and high collared shirts. Especially considering the heat was getting worse and worse.

"When is your appointment today?" Remus asked conversationally.

"At midday," Draco grumbled.

"We'd best be making a move, Remy," Sirius stated, standing up from the table. "Are you sure you'll be okay with Harry?"

Remus shot his friend a deadpan look before rolling his eyes. "Yes, sir Padfoot, I do think I can manage to  _not_  kill an infant."

Sirius grinned, "Excellent. Hopefully we'll be back by 2 o'clock the latest."

"Send a patronus if you're running late."

"Will do!"

Draco offered Remus a tight-lipped expression as he followed his cousin out of the kitchen. In the entrance hall there was a side-table beside the elephant-foot umbrella stand. On the table there was a single, battered coin purse. The threads spiralled out of the seams like spiders legs. Just looking at it made Draco's skin crawl.

"Right, the portkey is set to activate in two minutes," Sirius said as he patted down his pockets. "I'm sure I have everything I need. I may pop to the bank whilst you're in your session if you don't mind?"

Draco shook his head. "That sounds better than waiting for me to finish."

Sirius frowned. "Are you okay, Draco? You seem edgier than usual."

There was so many things, oh so many things, that Draco wanted to say was wrong.

He didn't want to sit in a room with a stranger for an hour.

He didn't want to tell said stranger anything about his failings, his time during the war and his non-existent plans for the future.

He didn't want to tell a stranger anything about his family.

Or his old friends.

Or Potter.

Instead, he just stared straight ahead and murmured, "I'm fine."

If Sirius was about to say something else, he didn't get a chance. The portkey vibrated as it activated in his palm. Draco reached out and grabbed it. With a sickly tug on his navel, they disappeared from Grimmauld place with a 'pop'.

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

The office was brightly lit with the sun filtering in through the large windows. It reminded him of the French balcony windows that were in their summer villa in France. The villa his mother was currently staying at.

Sat on the beige, leather sofa, Draco eyed as much of the room as possible without actively moving his head. He was hunched over, hands clasped together in his lap. The therapist –Lisa, because she insisted on being called by their first names –sat patiently across from him in a matching armchair. She was in her late thirties at least and looked as though she wouldn't even know what magic smelled like. Yet, according to Sirius, she was a pureblood. He didn't know of any pureblood's that used such a common name for their children, but it wasn't his place to question it.

She hadn't said a word.

They'd been sat like that for the better part of fifteen minutes.

If she wasn't going to start asking questions, what was the point of him even being here?

"How are you finding living with your cousin?"

The question startled Draco. He hadn't been expecting her to break the silence at all, however she wasn't being paid just to sit there and watch him brood. They stared at one another, but when it became apparent that she wasn't going to elaborate on her questioning, Draco sighed.

"It's … interesting."

"In what way?"

"He seems to have a strange way of getting through the days."

"You mean his personality isn't the sort that you're used to?" He nodded. "Is that generally, or from someone who is meant to be 'older and wiser'?"

Again, Draco fell silent.

He wasn't sure on the answer to that question. He knew Sirius had had a very troublesome past, some that most still couldn't disconnect from the man before their very eyes. Yes, in some ways being surrounded by Dementor's for thirteen odd years had driven his mentality into regions barely any man could comprehend, however he had fared better than most. Of course, he had his bad days. Draco could only imagine they weren't as prominent as when Potter had being his normal age.

He bit down on his bottom lip in thought. What would happen if Sirius had a manic episode? Or if he went into a depressive state like Draco had been upon first arriving at Grimmauld place?

Who would look after Potter then?

Remus wouldn't be able to cope with two children under his feet all day, least of all at a full moon.

"Draco?"

He looked up at the woman sitting across from him. His shoulder's stiffened at being caught worrying. Forcing himself to sit a little straighter, he glared straight up into the doctor's eyes and bit out, "Living with my cousin is fine. We each have our ways and are getting used to one another. That's it."

She noted something down. Draco couldn't tell what it was.

"Has he taken you into muggle London yet?"

"Once," Draco said. "I didn't like it."

"Really? Why not?"

"They're muggles," he curled his lip in distaste. "They're so primitive."

Cocking an eyebrow at him, Lisa leaned back in her chair. "Is that really the attitude you should be having, Draco? Right now your magic is restricted so surely that makes you realise how easy wizards have it?"

"Yes," he snapped. "That doesn't mean I like it."

"Your cousin was disowned at the age of sixteen by his own family. He lived with his best friend and was often out and about in muggle London."

"Great," Draco drawled. "And?"

"He learned to appreciate that they have things harder than we do. He still uses his own magic, doesn't he?"

"Exclusively."

"So what harm was done?"

"That he has adapted muggle  _things_  in his house that look … odd."

"Learning about them will make them seem less daunting," Lisa placated.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I feel as though this time is a good learning curve for you," she went on. "Learn from the mistakes that brought you to this point."

"I didn't make mistakes!" he snapped, blood rushing to his head.

Lisa fixed him with a cool stare. "Are you honestly telling me that all the decisions you made that led up to the war and through it, are ones that you're proud of?"

He clenched his jaw and fists tightly, the flesh flashing white against the strain.

"No," he ground out. "I am not proud of what I did. What I was made to do. I live with that guilt burning through me every day."

"I'm almost surprised you're admitting to it during our first session."

"What's the point in lying?" he sneered. "Everyone knows what I did regardless of the motives. I've heard what they say about me."

"It makes you angry, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"And how do you think your cousin will react if you have an emotional outburst because of your anger?" Lisa asked, her eyes sharp behind her glasses. "Do you think he'd beat it out of you? Torture you?"

Draco snorted. "He's a Gryffindor. He wouldn't."

"He was arrest for murdering twelve people, Draco. Clearly some people deemed him capable. I daresay his years in Azkaban haven't helped his triggers."

A muscle ticked in Draco's jaw. Was that true? Was his cousin balancing on the precipice of insanity, with a baby-sized-Potter in toe?

A chirruping sound broke the silence.

"I'm afraid that's all we have time for today," Lisa smiled, uncrossing her legs and setting her quill on the table. "I'm impressed. You're a hard one to crack, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco didn't know what to do or say to that comment. Her smile was even worse. Shifting to the edge of his seat he cast his eyes down towards his lap and asked, "May I leave now?"

"Of course. I'll see you next week."

He didn't reply.

He just left the room.

True to his word, Sirius was outside waiting for him, having already completed his errands in the hour Draco had been in session. He must have sensed that Draco didn't wish to speak, so they merely exited the building, side-by-side, and took the portkey back to Grimmauld place.

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

Sirius opened the door and allowed Draco to head inside first. The blonde teen hadn't spoken at all since he'd been picked up from his therapy session. Sirius wanted to ask, like any rational concerned adult, however the tightness of Draco's jaw made it clear that he was in no mood to talk.

He watched the kid hurry up the stairs, his shoulders hunched and his face downcast. His bedroom door slammed shut within moments of him vanishing from view.

Sirius sighed and ran a hand down his face.

He was just heading into the kitchen when the roar of the floo in the front lounge made him tense. He knew he was being foolish, but he couldn't help himself. Years of training himself to react to the slightest whisper, always put him on high alert.

Remus noticed his expression as soon as he came out into the hallway, Teddy strapped to his chest and Harry asleep in a muggle-styled carrier. "What's with the face?" he asked, keeping his voice low so that he didn't wake the children.

Sirius sighed, letting his shoulders sag. "I really want to make a joke about moody teenagers but … I think the therapy hit him a little harder than he expected."

"Ah, I see." Remus cast a look up the staircase. "I wouldn't worry too much. He probably just needs to take some time."

"Hmmm."

"Tea?"

"Right, sorry. I'll make us some. Would you mind settling the kids in the playpen?"

"They're sleeping, Padfoot."

"You can transfigure into a cot just by sneezing and you know it."

Remus rolled his eyes but smirked smugly as he followed the brunette man down into the kitchen. It was pleasantly cool compared to the sticky heat outside. Remus was already only wearing a loose button down shirt and linen slacks. Whilst Sirius busied himself making some iced tea, Remus flicked his wand at the playpen and transfigured it into a cot. Settling both infants inside and making sure they were comfortable and dry before he, too, sank down into a chair and dropped his head back with a sigh.

"So how did therapy go?" he asked as soon as he was handed a blissfully cool drink.

Sirius shrugged, hunched over the table. "It went, as far as I know. He didn't say a word the whole way home."

"Does that worry you?"

"A little. I'd prefer to know what the kid's thinking. After all, we've just come out of a war. Some of us for the second time," he shot his friend a pointed look. "I'd rather no one have any mishaps because no one knew how to help."

"You mean like how I thought you'd killed all those muggles?"

Sirius choked on his tea. He turned bewildered eyes to his friend, who calmly sipped at the frosty drink. "How can you say it so casually?"

"If it weren't for the map, Sirius,  _our_  map –I don't know if I'd have believed you otherwise."

Sirius ground his teeth together but allowed the matter to drop. Truthfully, he would have blindly believed anyone –even Pettigrew –if they'd said they'd been innocent. Remus wasn't as trusting as that. He'd had a whole lifetime of not being trusted for his condition, so it made him naturally cautious around others.

It still stung a little, though.

A hand rested on his forearm. Remus' eyes were concerned and open as he offered a smile. "I'm glad I was wrong," he said.

Sirius grasped the hand on his arm and squeezed it. He looked up into his best friend's eyes and couldn't deny how easy it felt, talking about such hard topics with one of the only people he trusted in the world. He don't know if it was the mixture of hot and cold air in the house or if Remus was just a magnetic human being, but Sirius saw rather than felt that he was leaning closer.

 

_TAP! TAP! TAP!_

 

"Fuck!" he hissed, nails digging into Remus' hand. He stood up so fast the chair clattered. "Fuck these fucking owls!" he cursed.

"Yes … Fuck the owls," Remus echoed as he drew his hand back and rubbed the small pink marks away. Quirking an eyebrow at Sirius' silence he asked, "Who's it from?"

"Old Moggie," Sirius murmured, still reading the letter. The owl hadn't bothered to wait for a reply.

"What does Minerva want?"

"She's offering us a contract."

"Us?" Remus frowned, standing up to read the letter. Sirius let him take it, leaning back against the cool stone counter as he waited. Remus frowned a little as he mouthed the words on the letter. "Well this certainly complicates matters," he said once he'd reached the end.

"Yes it does. We both have children, Remus. There's no way we can both teach!"

"Perhaps, if we were to both take positions, we should have our offices linked to the floo network here. That way on our free period's one of us can come back and help Draco take care of the children."

"What if Draco doesn't want to do that?" Sirius countered. "Not to mention he has therapy session's once a week. And what if he wants to study and complete his final year?"

"We'll have to discuss it with him, obviously."

"I don't see how this is going to work."

Remus raked a hand through his hair. It didn't sound like the most feasible plan. There were too many practicality issues that would be unavoidable. "We're going to have to tell her about Harry," he finally said.

"Nooo!" Sirius groaned. "What'll that do?"

"It'll show her the predicament that we're in. That we'll either need a schedule arranged in a certain way, or that only one of accepts the position."

Sirius glowered at his friend. "I'm not going to be the one telling her."

"Oh yes you are!" Remus retorted. "You're the one who let Harry get himself into this mess, so you can fix it with 'Old Moggie' and make it work."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Why do you always have to be right?"

"Because I'm good at it. Now, go and firecall Minerva before you lose your edge."

Sirius barred his teeth but stalked out of the kitchen regardless. Remus smirked to himself when he heard the front lounge door slam closed.

A hesitant knock came at the door.

Remus frowned over his glass of ice tea. "Yes?"

Draco peered around the door frame, looking stiff and awkward. Muggle clothes really were a strange look on him. "I heard a door slam," he offered lamely. "I haven't cause an argument with Sirius have I?"

Remus' eyebrows shot up. He shook his head, "No, no. He's just talking to Minerva about a possible teaching job."

"She offered him one?"

"Both of us actually."

Draco frowned as he went over to the counter and poured himself some iced tea. Manually. The very muscles seemed to scream in protest as he brought the glass over to the table and sat down. "How is that going to work?" he asked. "Between you two and the brats?"

"That's what they're figuring out," Remus said,

Draco hummed. He toyed with his glass before taking a small sip.

Remus watched the teenager for a little while. His skin looked sallow, like he'd avoided daylight as much as physically possible. He had so much potential. Even when he was thirteen he'd been almost too ambitious for his own good. He hadn't been able to produce a patronus, either, a fact that Remus found rather upsetting. Perhaps he'd just missed it?

"Draco, have you ever thought about redoing your seventh year?" he asked.

The blonde head snapped up. Grey eyes narrowed. "No. Why?"

"It just seems a waste that you have all this free time on your hands. You may not be able to do the magic, but you could easily pass the written exams and master the theory behind it all."

Draco huffed. "No thanks. I know what they'd all say about me. I'd be an outcast."

Remus inclined his head. "True, but you wouldn't have to be ashamed of anything. You've been cleared of most charges, you're doing some time for it and I don't see why your future should be hindered by your past."

He shook his head, "No offence, Lupin, but I'm a sitting target. I can't do magic. No one's going to forget I'm a Death Eater."

"Were."

"What?"

"You  _were_  a Death Eater. You no longer  _are_. You barely were to begin with."

Draco bristled, though he wasn't sure why. "I don't think it's a good idea right now."

Remus nodded in understanding. "What if I were to teach you privately?"

Draco scoffed. "You're going to teach, help look after two kids and try to teach me in your mythical free time? I don't think so."

Remus was about to argue when the door swung open.

Sirius stepped down into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. "Am I interrupting?"

"No."

"No."

"Right. Well, I just spoke with Minerva about our situation and she still wants both of us to teach. So much so that she's re-configuring the timetables so we can both teach Defence Against the Dark Arts on rotation. She said to see how things go and then after Christmas we can evaluate things."

Remus sighed, letting the information sink in. "What about not living at the castle? Did she agree to link our offices to here?"

Sirius nodded, "She did, but she did also offer a private chamber as well in case we got too caught up with work and needed to stay the night."

"I doubt that'll be necessary, but I won't complain."

"So, are we agreed? She said she wants our answers by next Monday the latest."

"I'll have to think about it and see how Andromeda feels about it all. I'm sure she'd be happy to pop in and look after Harry and Teddy, if we needed her to."

Turning to Draco, Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and asked, "What about you, Draco? How do you feel about all this? I know it's a bit sudden considering that you've only just settled in here, but you wouldn't need to come to the castle unless it was an emergency."

"What sort of emergency?"

"I don't know –in case Harry ate some soap or something."

"I'd hurry to you as soon as Potter started farting bubbles."

Remus bit back a smile, "Sirius, I think we all just need to weigh up the pros and cons. We can discuss it later on, perhaps over dinner or something. You can't ask Draco to make this agreement on a whim."

"Do whatever you want," the blonde teen shrugged as he downed the last of his tea. "Don't let me hold you two back from getting on with your lives."

"Draco, this is to be a new start for all of us," Remus said, placating him.

Draco was already mounting the stairs out of the kitchen as he huffed, "Obviously."

Sirius sighed as soon as he was sure Draco was out of earshot. Both men sank back down into their chairs as Teddy grizzled in his sleep. "What are we going to do with that boy?" Remus asked, staring at the doorway as though willing the teenager to reappear.

"Just give him some time," Sirius said. "He'll come around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A job offer?! You reckon they can manage it with all their other issues?
> 
> Also, how are we liking Dr. Lisa?


	9. Chapter 8: August

**_Chapter Eight_ **

 

**_~ August ~_ **

 

 

 

Harry turned two during the first week of August.

In order to celebrate that, and to officially kick-off the summer as a family, Sirius and Remus made the decision to go to the seaside for the weekend. They invited Draco to come along with them, even stating that they can get permission granted for him to go from his parole officer, however the blonde scrunched his nose up. He didn't understand what the hype was to go to the seaside. He'd never been a fan of such things. An unbearably muggle thing, in his opinion.

Remus and Sirius had rolled their eyes at one another and proceeded to pack whatever they may need in a trunk to take to a small, sleep town on the coast.

It was the Thursday before everyone else was due to leave for their 'long weekend' –another ridiculous muggle thing –when Draco had to reason that perhaps a change of scenery would do him good, on a mental level. Not to mention, days upon days of being cramped up in the musty old house with the hot sun baking the walls and setting cobwebs on fire wasn't doing him any favours.

Not that he'd admit it to anyone, but he'd  _never_  actually gone to the beach before.

He stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His skin was clammy to the touch and his head felt hot. He was staring down at his own drawers, their meagre innards taunting him. He didn't even really own anything similar to what he'd seen Sirius packing the day before.

What ever  _were_  shorts?

He felt itchy, as though he wanted to run and beg to go along with them, but couldn't find the words.

There was no way he'd get permission from his parole officer granted within a day, anyway. They claimed to need at least a weeks notice before he ventured off anywhere for longer than a second.

Was he just being paranoid? It wouldn't really hurt him to ask, would it?

In the end, he sighed and made his way down to the kitchen for lunch.

Since the weather was getting increasingly stifling, lunch usually consisted of cold cuts of meat in sandwiches and patatoe salad, as well as anything else that could be served room temperature, or colder. Draco munched idly through his food, not really tasting anything and feeling the hairs all over his body, prickle in anticipation. Toddler Potter sat across from him in a booster seat, ladling creamy mush into his pumpkin juice. Now that the thing could run head first into things and babble utter nonsense, Draco was beginning to loathe the brat even more. It was one thing to be an annoying baby, but an entirely different thing to be an annoying toddler.

It could even talk now … sort of.

 

 

 

Remus was the one who broached the subject of their little holiday. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Draco? I'm sure it won't be a problem."

He wanted to leap on the invitation, but sheer stubbornness and pride stopped him. "I … no, I think I'll be just fine here."

Sirius frowned and clapped his younger cousin on the shoulder. "Come on, Draco. Get out of your comfort zone for a little while. It will be fun."

Peering up through his blonde fringe –bloody hell he really needed a haircut –he frowned at Sirius. "What if it isn't? What if I don't enjoy any of it?"

A sympathetic glint appeared in those blue-grey eyes. "Then I promise we won't stop trying until we find something that you can enjoy, too."

Draco looked down at his plate. He didn't have much of an appetite, not since the end of the war. He wasn't enjoying any food like he used to, not even dessert. He let out a long, weary sigh. "Will this be a completely muggle holiday then?" he asked, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his words.

Like two grown adults, Remus and Sirius chose to ignore the tone of his voice. "It will be, yes. Except for the portkey."

"What would I …um … What would I need to take with me?"

"Well, some light weight clothes, a book maybe. Anything else you might need, really. Oh, and definitely sunglasses!"

Draco scrunched his nose up, "I don't need to wear glasses."

"They protect you from the sun," Sirius grinned. "I have a very swish pair, don't I, Remy?"

"Sure, Paddy," Remus rolled his eyes.

Sirius turned back to Draco, "If you like, we can go out to the shops after lunch and find you some more clothes to take with us. How does that sound?"

Licking his lips, the blonde nodded mutely. Across the table, Toddler Potter clapped his small hands in excitement. "Beach! Going swimming!"

Sirius chuckled. "That's right, Harry. We're going to go swimming as well."

"Guess what else we can do?" Remus joined in, as though divulging the best kept secret ever. "We can build sandcastles!"

"Sandcastles?!"

Draco watched them interacting so easily. He didn't know what a beach was, really, and even less clue as to the purpose of function of a sandcastle. He doubted it'd be a very impressive castle, if it needed constructing by the sea of all places. However … Regardless of what any of it meant, it felt exciting. Or, at least, on the cusp of excitement. Draco didn't really know how to feel, only that he was definitely feeling left out of the 'family' atmosphere that seemed to strike up so easily between the two men and their offspring. Draco could very well have made a crude joke about mutts and their packs, but decided it'd be in bad taste.

"Right!" Sirius clapped his hands, leaping from his chair. Draco startled at the sudden sound and glared up at his cousin. "Let's go shopping!"

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

First thing on the Friday morning, just after 6AM, Draco was roused from his sleep by the low thumping of something bouncing around. With a groan he rolled out of his sticky bed and stretching his creaking joints. He raked a hand through his hair and then stood up to make his way to the bathroom. As he was walking along the landing, he heard Remus and Sirius' voices from the lower level, talking as they arranged all the essentials by the front door to shrink and take with them. Draco shuffled along to the bathroom, his feet barely walking in a straight line.

Once he'd brushed his teeth and arranged his hair to sit neatly, he left the bathroom feeling a little more alert. He just needed to change into some of the lighter, muggle clothing he'd bought the previous day. Rather, Sirius had bought it and Draco assured the man he'd pay him back.

Just as he was passing by the nursery, he heard the bouncing sound again. He groaned to himself. He could just ignore it. Then again, Sirius was busy and Remus was over-looking everything with his own infant strapped to his chest.

Pushing the door open, he saw Potter standing upright in his cot, his chubby fists wrapped around the bars and his wide green eyes alert and excited. As soon as he saw Draco, he grinned and starting bouncing again, grizzling as the blonde neared the cot. Draco stood with his arms folded against his chest and almost smiled. Almost.

"I'm not picking you up, you know?" he stated with a wry smirk. "Not everyone's gonna bend to your will, you soggy thing."

Potter beamed. He raised his arms and opened and closed his fists. "Draco, up!"

"It's not happening, kid," Draco shook his head. "You can wait for Sirius to come and get you."

That was the wrong thing to say. Potter's lips wobbled as he hung over the railings of his cot, his eyes glossing over.

Draco groaned, "Don't do that, scarhead. What, can't you be alone for two minutes?"

The toddler whined and awkwardly wiped at his nose.

Rolling his eyes, Draco grimaced as he went up to the cot and bent down to lift the child up. He cursed all his ancestors as he awkwardly held the kid at arms length. What did he do now? How did he hold it right? As stiff and rigid as he felt, Draco managed to shift the toddler onto his hip. He wriggled about until Potter seemed to sit comfortably in the crook of his body.

"Right," he grunted under the kids' weight. "I need to get my shit together. You'd better not snot on anything."

For the most part, Potter had been really well-behaved as Draco settled the kid in the nest of his pillows and blankets, still unmade, on his bed. Potter seemed to have a knack for touching anything within arms reach, clearly a trait he'd never grow out of. Whilst he busied himself with chewing on an old belt of Draco's, the blonde teen set about packing his trunk. He didn't need to take a whole lot, just his new muggle clothes as far as Sirius had told him. However, he didn't have any other means of transporting said clothes. He hoped it would be enough clothes to see him over the next four days. He wasn't entirely sure how muggles and their fashion, worked.

Sirius was hardly a role-model in that department.

 

 

 

By 8AM everything was packed, shrunken down and packed into a muggle rucksack that Sirius was going to carry. Not that Draco minded.

The portkey was due to go off at 8:20AM, and when they finally reached their destination, Draco felt like puking on the pavements.

They place they'd ended up in, was a coastal town called Margate. Draco couldn't recall ever hearing of it before. Remus had been the one to book the 'Bed and Breakfast' they'd be staying at. They had to walk for about ten minutes, squinting into the sunlight as Draco trailed behind the group, taking in all the bleached buildings, the gold sand and the luscious sea that stretched on for miles.

"There's plenty of time for that, Draco!" Remus called over his shoulder.

Draco hastened to catch up.

Their 'Bed and Breakfast' was a cosy set-up in a tall building with a large oak door at the front. The house itself was painted a strange, peachy colour. Draco noted that it looked nice in the sunny weather, but would probably resemble a rotten fruit as soon as the skies turned grey. He kept the opinion to himself, however, as they were shown up to their room.

They had a set of adjoining rooms, both with two double beds in each. It was at the very top of the building, and Remus insisted that it was worth the money. Nowhere else would have such a room available, unless they'd gone to a luxurious hotel ten miles from the sea.

"How do you want to do sleeping arrangements?" Sirius asked as he settled Harry down on the edge of the bed, and took his little cap off. His black hair stood up in all directions as he swivelled around on his butt, taking in his new environment.

"Well, Teddy and I can sleep in the other room," Remus suggested. "Or Draco, maybe you'd like to have the room to yourself? To have some privacy?"

Draco was stunned for a brief moment. "Er … I don't mind. Maybe it'd make sense for all the kids to be in the same room."

Sirius hummed, "Well that's true. Less hassle." Turning to Draco, he frowned. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't see why not. It'll hardly be any different than at Grimmauld place."

Remus eased Teddy out of the chest harness and rocked the little thing against his shoulder. "Why don't we all freshen up a little, put some sun cream on and head out for some lunch? I'm starved."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Sounds good." Crouching down in front of the bed, he tweaked Harry's knee until he squealed with laughter. "Is that a 'yes' little man? Are you hungry?"

"Sandwiches!"

Around the corner from their B&B, they came across a little café across the road from the waterfront. The pavements were baked, Draco could feel the heat radiating off of them. His skin felt slimy as they settled down at a table under a striped awning. Sirius had insisted he be slathered in some strange-smelling white cream because apparently it 'protects him from the sun' or something bullshit. He'd gone along with it purely to appease his guardian.

They sat at a white metal table with metal chairs that had striped cushions on them. It wasn't the most comfortable he'd ever been, but then this was hardly a five star place. Still, he sat with a vaguely disgruntled look on his face. Potter was perched on Sirius' lap. Remus had his own son nestled back against his torso, his hand continuously brushing the tuft of blue hair without thinking.

A young woman with brown hair pulled back into a bun came out, chewing gum and handed them menus. Draco grimaced down at his menu, noting it even  _looked_  sticky. Sirius must have noticed, as he placed a hand on the teens shoulder. "Don't look so daunted. What do you want to eat? We'll see if we can get you sorted."

Draco frowned down, noting the unmoving pictures of the food. None of it looked particularly appetising but his gut was already cramping with hunger. He hadn't eaten before they'd left. "Um … I don't really know."

"How about a full English?" Remus suggested, before glancing up at the waitress. "Are you still able to make that?"

"Sure," she smacked her lips. "All-day breakfast, if you fancy it."

"I'll have one of those, with double sausages, if you please," he smiled up at her. "How about you, Paddy?"

"I'll have a full English as well," he grinned, flashing his teeth. He turned his attention down, as Potter grabbed for his curls. "What're you after, kid? You fancy a sausage?"

Draco's head shot up as Potter grinned, flashing his baby teeth. "Sausage sandwich!"

Sirius grinned back at the young woman. "Is a sausage sandwich possible? He's addicted to his sandwiches at the moment."

The woman smiled for the first time, her eyes landing on Potter. "Oh, he's precious! Yeah, sure, sausage sandwich is fine. I can bring a Ribenna for him as well, if you want? Can even stick the straw in himself!"

"I like straws!" Potter beamed.

"One Ribenna is it then," she turned to Draco and cocked an eyebrow, "What about you, darling? Anything you fancy?"

Despite his hunger, Draco really have the energy to chew. Since arriving to stay with his cousin, he'd only taken to eating small meals. "Er … Yeah, just a sausage sandwich for me, thanks."

Remus ordered some drinks too, and after she'd written everything down, she walked back intot he building. Turning his amber eyes onto the blonde teen beside him, Remus frowned. "Are you sure that's going to be enough for you Draco? You didn't eat this morning."

"I'm fine."

"Well we can always get some chips on the pier, can't we?" Sirius shrugged as he adjusted Potter on his lap. "Or an ice cream? Either way, this won't be our only meal of the day."

Remus pursed his lips but opted not to say anything.

The food arrived and they ate. Potter was kept quiet as he munched his way clumsily through his sandwich, the ketchup smearing over his cheeks. Sirius had to keep stopping to use a damp napkin to gently clean the toddlers face, despite Potter's protests and squirming. As Remus and Sirius demolished their portions, Draco was very much reminded of their canine attributes.

 

 

 

 

Once the food was eaten, Remus insisted that they put a little more cream on their faces. Even Draco. The blonde did it automatically, watching as Potter also squirmed and protested, batting Sirius' hands with a chubby fist. Once sufficiently protested by the suns evilness, they walked out from under the shade and crossed the street towards the beach.

Draco was stunned as his shoes sank into the soft, gold sand.

He hasn't felt something so soft in who knew how long. Any memory of such softness was from another lifetime ago. He had to hurry to catch up with the rest of the group as they walked lazily down a wooden walkway, drawing closer and closer to the sea. It hushed and frothed as the waves broke across the damp sand. It fizzed and was absorbed, dragged back to the depths, before another wave rushed up to them.

Potter squealed in delight as he tugged Sirius' hand, forcing the older man to stoop down and follow towards the waters edge. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Sirius popped each of Potter's kiddie shoes off and grabbed both his hands. His insides did a funny sommersault as he watched Potter being held by his arms and swung out over the waves, being dipped so that his feet skimmed the cool water. Every time his feet vanished from sight, Potter's laughter filled the air.

Beside him, Remus chuckled. "I remember the one and only time we took Harry to the beach. He was just as excited about it then as he is now."

Draco frowned and shrugged, the heat of the sun slowly baking him from behind. "I don't see what all the fuss was about."

Remus watched as Sirius picked up Harry and spun him around in circles before dunking his legs back into the frothy waves. Harry squealed and kicked about in delight. Shielding Teddy's face from the sun, he turned to Draco and nodded towards a bench in a shaded spot by some large rocks. Draco followed, almost like he was a puppet. They settled down on the worn wooden and Remus rolled his shoulders, sighing softly as knots were released.

"My wife died in the war."

Draco's head snapped around, his eyes wide. He hadn't been expecting that. He watched Remus' face for any sign of a cruel joke, but found nothing. His insides turned cold, making his skin break out in goosepimples, despite the heat. His eyes dropped down to where Teddy was grizzling in his harness, his bright eyes taking in all the sunny splendour.

"I … I'm sorry," Draco choked out. It terrified him that anyone could say such a statement so casually.

"She had her whole life in front of her," Remus sighed. "She was younger than me by a good few years. For some reason she settled for me. I should have forced her to stay home, but she wouldn't have it. She was killed –I survived."

Draco swallowed, his throat dry.

He didn't know what to say, what could be said, over something so harrowing.

"I should be glad that one of us lived," the older man sighed, the bags and lines around his eyes suddenly more pronounced than ever. It aged him terribly. "So that Teddy wasn't an orphan. I just wish to Merlin it wasn't me."

Despite the sickness that pooled in his stomach, Draco couldn't ignore all the times he'd felt the exact same way. Still did, in fact.

"I know things are dismal right now," Remus continued. "I don't know the right answers for everything, but you are in as good position as any right now. You can control where you go from this point forward. You're not in Azkaban. You don't need to suffer like Sirius did. The man … He may be stunted, emotionally, and on more mental levels than either of us can count. However, the one thing that Azkaban could never kill inside him, was the love and determination he felt for getting back to Harry, to his family. He's a good man, Draco. Just like I know you are."

Draco blinked, stunned by the words. He cast his eyes over to wear Sirius had thrown caution to the wind and was sat right in the sand, hunched over and grinning as Potter smashed a sandy mound with his fists. His insides twisted again, as Sirius ruffled the snot-buckets mop of black hair.

A hand rested on his knee, squeezing.

"You've been given a second chance, Draco. I know we're far from the family unit you'd always imagined, but a mis-matched family is better than no family. It's hard on all of us, in different ways," the older man said, his amber eyes turning and lingering on where Sirius sat. "We have to deal with what's been forced upon us and learn to enjoy what the next chapter of our lives has to offer."

"You say it like it's so easy," Draco accused, his voice latching.

A short laugh. "Trust me, Draco, there are days I can't even get out of bed. It hurts me to be such a failure in front of my son, but one day I hope he will understand."

"So you're just going on blind faith that your son will be forgiving? That he'll want to stick around, waiting for a change that may never happen?"

Remus inclined his head. "I have to trust that I'll love him enough for him to understand what we went through."

"And what about …?" he let the question hang in the air between them. He shifted on the bench, the sun burning at his ankles.

"You have us. We're not going anywhere. The one thing I can count on, is that Sirius Black is like a damned bad penny; he's always showing up when you don't want him."

Draco almost smiled.

"Besides, he juggled taking care of me so I could take care of Teddy, as well as keeping Harry from self-imploding after the war. He's come so far since Azkaban. If he can come through that, there's nothing that you and I can't do, too."

Draco hummed in thought. His eyes strayed back to Sirius as he rolled up his trousers, toed off his shoes and held out his hand for Potter to hold on to. Together, they strolled towards the water and waded in ankle-deep. Whenever a wave came, they tried to jump over it. Potter got soaked from his toes to his chin!

It looked … fun.

Remus followed his gaze and smiled. "Go and join them," he said, nudging the blonde gently.

"What if they'd rather I wasn't there?" he asked, almost too quietly.

"You won't know until you try."

Draco huffed in annoyance. Damned self-righteous werewolves and their spawn.

After a few moments just sitting there, making as much a point as he could, Draco eventually peeled himself off the wooden bench and stepped out into the blazing sunlight. He felt as though his skin was being set on fire as he walked down the wooden walkway towards the waters edge. Padding awkwardly over the last leg of sand, he squirmed. Did he call out of just go straight in for it? He cast a look over his shoulder as Remus, but could barely see the man thanks to the glare of the sun.

With great anxiety thrumming through his veins, he wriggled his feet out of his shoes and hurried across the hot sand until his feet came to the waters edge. It was cool, damp and gritty. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Draco!" Potter cried out gleefully. "Come jump! Come jump!"

The teen grimaced at being spotted, but now he didn't have a way out of it. With dread in his belly, he waded into the water. He gasped at how cool it was compared to the heat of the sun. Walking out to where Sirius stood, grinning like an idiot, Draco squinted back at him. The water felt refreshing but his skin was on fire.

He almost attacked when he felt Potter grab ahold of his hand.

"Jump, Draco!" Potter insisted, bobbing his knees. "Jump over the waves!"

"Alright you bossy git," Draco grunted, more to himself than the toddler.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, a noise that still set Draco on edge.

Each holding a hand of Potter's over his head Sirius asked, "You ready, squirt? On three we're going to jump okay?" He eyed Draco pointedly over Potter's head, jiggling the little arm.

Draco frowned.

"One … Two … Three … JUMP!"

He felt so foolish at jumping over a wave that barely reached his knees. Potter, on the other hand was thrilled –even if he did spit out some sea water.

"Shit!" Draco hissed. "I didn't mean –"

Sirius waved him off, "It's fine, just need to lift him higher on the next one, okay?"

Draco nodded. It wasn't okay. It  _really_  wasn't okay.

Still, the next wave was brewing and he only had a few seconds before –

"JUMP!"

He jumped whilst hoisting Potter as high as he could manage. The brat cleared the wave entirely, laughing loudly as he splashed back down into the shallow water. "Again!" he cried out, bouncing so hard Draco was sure his arm was about to free itself from its socket. "Again, again, again!"

Apparently he had no choice.

There would be many wave jumps that afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If none of you guys fell in love with beach-fun Harry, I can't even LOOK AT YOU!


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and reviews, I hope you like this update!

** Chapter Nine **

 

 

 

“Have you thought anymore about returning to Hogwarts?” Sirius asked the following morning. He carried Potter against his chest with such ease, that Draco couldn’t help but envy the tanned muscles.

Draco took a lick of his ice cream. “I don’t think it’s something I’d want to do. I can’t go back there. Not after the things I’ve done.”

Sirius nodded with a hum. He look a lick of the ice cream in his free hand and then offered it to Potter who opened his mouth wide and took a bite of the soft creamy mush. “Perhaps you should write to McGonagall about studying by yourself and taking the exams privately?”

Draco frowned as they walked down the high street. The shade was refreshing. “I doubt she’d want to do my any favours. Not after all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Sirius sighed and came to a stop. Draco winced and stopped, too, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. “Listen to me, kid. Dumbledore saw something in you worth a second chance. I think I’m starting to get it, myself. Now if you don’t want to deal with the other kids, then fine. I just –I don’t want you to regret the chance of doing something more with yourself. You can at least get the theory exams done, right? Do the practical ones after they release your magic?”

Draco hadn’t thought about any of it in such a practical way. He was a little stunned; if McGonagall did agree to such an arrangement, then he could pass his NEWT’s without having to see any of his old classmates.

“That … doesn’t actually sound like a bad plan,” he hedged.

Sirius grinned wolfishly. “There you go! We can even get you the reading materials from Diagon before term starts.”

“Sirius you don’t need to waste your money on –”

“On what, Draco? On family? I’d cherish every moment of it!”

Draco frowned up at him as they resumed their casual stroll down the high street. They had yet to go into any shops. “Why would you cherish something so inane?”

“Maybe it’s because I was in Azkaban for twelve years. It makes even the silliest things seem like a milestone.”

The words sent a chill settling in Draco’s stomach. He swallowed thickly, his appetite for the ice cream having vanished. He held onto the brittle cone, just so that he could take a cool lick every now and then to avoid speaking much.

Every so often Draco’s attention was caught by something in one of the narrow, latticed windows. Sirius would come to a stop beside him and ask if he wanted to go inside, but Draco always found himself refusing. Truthfully, he wanted to see if he could find something for his mother, but there was no way to encompass the entire seaside town in just a single object or two. Neither Sirius nor Remus ever pressured him, though. Raking a hand through his blonde hair, he hurried to catch up to Sirius who had stopped outside another shop. There were strange racks and a bookcase propped up outside, almost reminiscent of Diagon Alley.

“What’re you looking at?” Draco asked.

“I’m trying to find some postcards that I like,” Sirius muttered in an offhand manner. “We’ve taken some nice photos, but I want something muggle to add into Harry’s scrapbook.”

Draco glanced at the ratty wire rack. It had loads of colourful cards on them depicting unrealistic versions of the town they were staying in. He peered closer, silently hoping that one of them would start moving –no such luck. Sirius plucked a few cards from the rack and then went over to peer at the counter. Draco glanced back at the cards. Would mother like one? They were so common in comparison to an elegant letter written on embossed parchment, however there was a quirky sort of charm to it. How much was 50p in sickles and knuts? His stomach clenched in humiliation.

He’d never had to ask for money until now. He felt like a beggar.

“Draco? Did you see anything you liked?” Sirius called from the counter inside the shop.

His felt his body flush with embarrassment. He didn’t even realise his cousin had came up behind him until he turned and almost collided with Potter’s shoulder. “Sh –er –sorry. Didn’t hear you.”

Sirius frowned down at him. He kept his voice low as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

A pause. “Did you want to get some postcards? I’m sure your mum would like one.”

Draco twisted his mouth up, now wanting to divulge just how accurate Sirius’ assumptions were. He shrugged nonchalantly and turned back to the rack. “I suppose she would like to know where you’ve been taking me,” he stated.

Sirius hummed but didn’t say anything. He took the postcards from Draco and went back to the counter to pay.

 

Once they were back out on the high street, Draco fidgeted with his hands in his pockets. “How much do I owe you for the cards?” he asked, keeping his head bent towards the pavement.

“Draco those cards didn’t even cost me two quid, okay? It’s nothing to worry over.”

“Sirius can you just tell me?”

Sighing, the older man was quiet for a moment while he did the math. “It’s about five sickles and three knuts for all three cards.”

Draco nearly stopped in his tracks. “Is that all?”

“I told you it was nothing.”

“S’rus! Want to go home!” Potter whined, kicking his little legs in agitation. “Too hot!”

“Alright, kid, alright. Do you want to go and have a nap with Teddy?”

“Yeah!” Potter grinned, completely forgetting that he was meant to be annoyed. “Sleep with Teddy.”

“Now, don’t you hug him too tight. He’s still a baby.”

Potter mumbled something but Draco didn’t pay any attention. He was trying to pen the letter in his head. He hadn’t written to his mother in over a month and, if her few letters were anything to go by, she was becoming increasingly worried. At least now he had something of note to report back to her.

 

 

 

Later that evening, Remus asked Sirius if he fancied going to the pub down the road for a drink. From his position in the adjoining doorway, Draco could practically see the raised ears and the tail wagging. He knew what was coming before either man had dared to look at him; he was going to be babysitting Saint Nappy-Wearing Potter and Teddy. He gave a resigned sigh but accepted his fate on one condition; they had to show him how to work the strange, black box sitting on the chest-of-drawers.

He had seen images and heard noises coming from it the previous evening, but it unnerved him to have the thing looming in the corner of the room without knowing how to disarm or control it.

“Okay, Draco. This is called a television. Muggles use it to entertain themselves, or find our what’s going on in the world,” Remus explained. He held a long, black thing with a load of small squishie bits on it. “This is the remote. You can turn the volume up or down using these arrow buttons,” he pointed to the volume buttons. “And these ones are to go up a channel or down a channel.”

Draco felt even more confused than before.

“I get the volume,” he lied. “But what’s a channel?”

“A channel is a program. For example, one will have the news on it, so you can keep up to date with things in the muggle world. Almost like the Daily Prophet. Other channels with have things like documentaries on wildlife, there’s the crime channel –”

“I don’t want to watch people doing crimes!” Draco snapped.

Chuckling, Remus shook his head. “No, you won’t. Sometimes it’ll be about a crime in the past and they’re acting out how it happened now that the case is closed. Othertimes it will be completely fictional.”

The blonde frowned. “Well if it isn’t real, why would I care about it?”

“It’s entertainment.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Well, try watching one and see how you like it.”

Draco took the remote in his hand and turned it over again and again. “Are there other things to watch?” he asked absently.

“It varies from night to night,” Remus stated over his shoulder as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing basic muggle jeans –something Draco still didn’t agree with as a fashion choice –and a white linen button-down shirt. The long sleeves worked well to hide his scar-laced forearms. The pale lines across his face were unavoidable, though. “Just flick through and find something you like. There’s usually movies on Saturday nights at least.”

Draco glanced up at the brunette with a frown. “What the hell is a movie?”

Remus gave him a patient smile. “It’s like a fictional documentary. Or your favourite book acted out so that you can watch it instead of having to imagine it for yourself.”

Draco sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I guess I have the rest of the night to figure it out.”

“Don’t worry. Paddy yelled at his first ever T.V. for a week straight. He was convinced someone was locked inside it,” Remus chuckled.

Draco’s eyebrows rose in bemusement just as the aforementioned cousin came in from the bathroom with a freshly changed Potter in toe. “Right, we’re all set,” he grinned, indicating his russet coloured silk shirt and light trousers. He bent down and sat Potter on the same bed as Draco. “You be good for Draco now, do you hear my Harry?”

Potter blinked those large, green eyes and nodded eagerly. “Be good for Draco.”

“Good boy,” Sirius pressed a big, bristly kiss to the toddlers’ forehead. Then he turned his attention to Draco. “Teddy’s already down for the night,” he nodded over to the cot. “But if he wakes up, just make sure he has everything he needs. He shouldn’t be hungry, but if he is, just feed him a little bit, okay? We don’t need him being sick.”

Draco swallowed thickly, but nodded.

“Good. We won’t be out too long.”

“What if there’s an emergency?” Draco asked, tensing at the idea of being defenceless against two children.

Sirius frowned. Thankfully, Remus came to the rescue. “It’s okay. I have a mobile incase of emergencies.” He took a napkin from the bedside table and wrote out eleven numbers. Draco frowned as he was handed the napkin. “Now, if there is any issue, pick up the phone, dial that number and wait for me to answer, okay?”

Draco fidgeted on the bed. He felt the burn of humiliation tarnishing the back of his skin. “I … Can you show me how to do it?”

“Sure thing,” Sirius took the reigns and picked up an ugly, clunky white object littered with the same numbered buttons as the ‘remote’. Draco frowned, leaning closer so that he could see exactly what Sirius was doing. Once the numbers had been punched in, in the correct order as written, he held the device to his ear and waiting.

A strange ringing sounded out, causing Draco to leap to his feet in alarm.

“Hey, hey it’s okay!” Remus held up his hands in surrender. “That’s just my phone.”

Draco glared at him, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. “Why –Why did it make that noise?”

“So I knew that someone was trying to contact me.”

Draco’s throat felt tight. His eyes felt hot and irritated as Sirius replaced the ‘phone’ and straightened up. Both men wore a look on their face, a look that made Draco feel positively queasy. Pity. “We can stay home tonight if you’d like, Draco. Just say the word and we’ll stay.”

“No! It’s –look, I’ll be fine, alright?” he snapped. He turned his back on both men and settled back onto the bed. “Go out and enjoy yourselves.”

‘ _At least some of us should_ ,’ went unsaid.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a worried glance, however Draco began channel-surfing, effectively distancing himself from their presence. In the end, they decided to just go out for a couple of hours, leaving the blonde to explore the world of cutting-edge muggle technology.

 

 

 

It took Draco all of half an hour to work out a system for the television; he went through all the channels several times and then started making notes on which ones would host what variety of show. That would be good for when he was alone. At that moment, he had Potter slumped back on the pillow beside him, jiggling his legs every so often to dispel the extra energy.

Great. The sodding Saint Potter was even able to dictate what to watch purely because of his _age_. It took another twenty minutes to find something that wasn’t too distasteful for an infant, which seemed to be a hard feat past 8 o’clock at night.

Two programmes into the evening, Draco was amazed at what muggles deemed entertaining; not only were the ways to broadcast said ‘shows’ impressive, but the subject matter of most of these late-night shows were sometimes so well played-out that Draco felt drawn-in, almost like he was _there_ with the characters instead of sitting on a bed with a babbling brat that seemed to like diving into the pillows.

Sooner or later, Potter would bash his stupid scarhead against the headboard.

Draco ground his teeth together.

“Draco! Look! I’m gonna dive into this shark tank!”

“There are no sharks, Potter,” Draco intoned, not even bothering to look.

“The pillows are sharks.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“You have to pretend they’re sharks, Draco. That’s how pretend works.”

Draco ignored him.

He felt the brat scramble to his feet and dive head-first into the pillows, over and over again.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Draco snapped. He reached out and grabbed Potter’s wrist, forcing him to stop bouncing. His cheeks were flushed from exertion and his black hair was a rumpled mess. “No more jumping on the bed. You’ll fall and hurt yourself.”

“No. I’m careful!”

Draco glowered at the child. “I said ‘no’. Anyway, it’s past your bedtime.”

“I don’t like having the light on …” Wide green eyes dropped to the bed.

Draco frowned. Didn’t Sirius say that Potter suffered from nightmares after the war? That he needed to sleep with the light on most nights? Why wouldn’t he want the light on, unless …?

He didn’t remember.

The thought slammed into Draco’s chest like a brick wall.

Potter didn’t remember anything about the war. He wasn’t just suffering in silence like most of them, no. He had completely erased the last fifteen years of his life. He just wanted happiness, a whole family …

His heart twisted and ached in his chest. He felt his eyes and throat burn with suppressed anguish. He wasn’t about to let it all out in front of Potter though, brat or not.

“Draco?” A small, warm hand touched his cheek and he flinched, almost knocking Potter over. Potter blinked up at him, his hand still on Draco’s cheek. “I don’t like you sad.”

Draco blinked his eyes, trying to get rid of any shine in them. “Whatever you say Potter,” he cuffed at his eyes quickly before clearing his throat. “Time for bed. Go on.”

He tugged the covers off of one side of the bed. He quickly checked on Teddy; he was still sound asleep in his cot, his hair a fluffy lilac colour as he dreamed. Draco turned the lights off –light switches were one of the many muggle absurdities that he wished he could just ‘ _incendio’_ at first sight –and turned the bedside lamp on. The room was instantly cosier.

“Better?” he asked, feeling worn-out.

Potter nodded from where he was dwarfed by big pillows.

“Good.”

Draco turned the volume on the T.V. down and reclined back against the headboard, his own mind feeling tired. He really needed to get better sleep, but it evaded him at every turn. He was dimly aware of Potter burrowing into his side, the warmth of his little body the last thing that Draco remembered before he drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

_He was walking._

_That’s all his dreams felt like now; walking down long corridors made of black, shining marble. Just like in the Department of Mysteries. Just like his home._

_There was a door at the end. He didn’t need to touch it to know that it would open as soon as he neared._

_He barely makes it over the threshold before hands dart out of the darkness and pin him to the cold wall. Nails dig into his flesh and he can hear cackling, but there’s no one else around._

_Red eyes blaze to life before him._

_‘Crucio!’_

CRACK!

The bathroom door banged open and Draco yelled out at the sound. He doesn’t remember how he got to the bathroom floor, nor why Sirius is snapping at Remus for him to go to the children. He’s aware that he’s shaking, that he’s speaking nonsense but he can’t control any of it.

He’s face his soaked with tears and his nose is running. His body feels like it’s burning up and his mind is about to melt out of his ears.

He isn’t breathing … Why isn’t he breathing?

Unlatching his jaw, he takes deep, gulping breaths through sobs. He heaved and sucked in air but it didn’t help. It just fans the flames inside him. Everything hurts and he doesn’t know why.

Cool hands touched his skin and everything inside him snapped, unravelled into oblivion and he continued to cry. His vision is blurred and he didn’t understand what’s happening. There’s the tinkling of glass and the crunch of it being magically fixed together.

What had broken? The mirror?

His face his wiped despite his weak protests, and then washed clean, before he got bodily lifted off the bathroom floor and carried out. He picked up the smell of cologne and cool air clinging to Sirius’ shirt and leaned into the soft fabric.

Cool, softness pressed against his back and he almost sighed with relief. His throat was raw.

It was dark … For the first time in ages he just wanted to lie in the dark and not have to see or face anything.

He drifted in a semi-conscious state for a while. He wasn’t alone in his room. The bed dipped with the weight of another person. It should have terrified him, should have made his heart tremor with fear. However, he turned into the warmth, his raw, damp cheeks stinging as he hiccoughed on air. Cool arms cradled him and the soft fabric was against his forehead. A hand rubbed his back through his shirt.

He hadn’t been held like that, not since before the trials, since Mother …

A tear rushed down his cheek. His headache throbbed at the base of his skull. A thumb wiped the tear away. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, barely making out the soft noises in the adjoining room.

He fell asleep with his head against Sirius’ chest.

 

 

Sunday morning they packed everything up and took a leisurely train back into London. Everyone seemed rather subdued, whether from the heat or the lack of sleep, Draco couldn’t really tell. He noticed Potter would look over at him across the table between them, but didn’t speak. It was just as well. Draco didn’t know if he was capable of talking without breaking-down.

The following day, he requested an appointment to see his therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So my lovelies, this is to be the final update whilst I am away on holidays! I will be gone for three weeks -back on the 19th August -so please leave lots of love and reviews for me to read in my down time ;) Hope you all have a great summer!


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK :D

**Chapter Ten**

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sirius had accepted the position as DADA professor, alongside Remus.

They would each work a week and had spent hours pouring over a calendar to make sure that Sirius was always working on the week of a full moon and that Remus was always working on the week that Harry would age a year.

It had been a long conversation and once the timetable had been sorted out and owled to McGonagall, their joint attention had turned to Draco.

It had taken two hours and a lot of raised voices from Sirius, more so because he was easily excited than anything else, before even Draco couldn't deny that the prospect of studying magic again did have a faint sheen of appeal for him. His conditions were simple; he'd be tutored at home in private and study whenever he could. Any and all home work was to be taken to him and to the respective professors to be marked via owl or Sirius. If he was able to pass all the theory and written exams with good grades, then as soon as the restrictions on his magic were lifted, he'd be able to sit the practical exams.

Maybe there was something waiting for him on the other side of his torment.

As it stood, the only thing he had looking forward to in the coming week was for Potter to officially turn three years old.

They weren't going to be having another party. Draco was glad for that; there was only so much leftover cake a boy could take.

He'd written to his mother informing him of his decision to continue on with his studies. She had been pleased of his decision, stating that he had nothing but time on his hands these days, so he may as well make the best of it all.

He didn't tell her about all the muggle appliances he had to learn about, though. Perhaps after Christmas, but not right now. It still felt like his skin was dirty every time he flipped the light switch.

McGonagall, in her wisdom, had also stated that he was more than welcome to return to school to use the facilities for his studies, although he was pretty sure Sirius would allow him to brew potions in one of the unused rooms. She had explained in her letter to him, that should he ever wish to come to the school grounds, she would ensure that he have a personal escort so as to discourage any wand-waving whilst his back was turned.

He appreciated the sentiment, however he knew how shitty students could be.

He'd been one of them for years. To think of all the pranks he'd gotten away with without being scolded for it.

It all felt too neat, too practical, too easy.

He wasn't ready to let any of it settle and become real in his head, not yet.

A quick glance at the calendar made his insides twist. There was only a week and a half until term officially started. He had yet to go to Diagon Alley and get the books on the list McGonagall had written to him. Of course, there were less practical things to buy, so it shouldn't cost too much money for Sirius to acquire what he needed. He still felt like a leech having to take money from a man who had been exiled from his own family.

The thought … struck a cord within his chest.

Stifling a yawn, he reasoned that it was getting late.

Potter was already asleep in his cot in the nursery and Sirius was sprawled out on the sofa in the lounge, watching that infernal T.V.; apparently tonight there was some crime related documentary that he was 'into'. He'd asked if Draco wanted to join him, but he'd declined, instead retreating to the coolness of the kitchen to pen a letter to his mother and read over the various papers he'd accumulated over the last few days.

Shuffling the papers into a neat stack, he tucked them under his arm, manually turned off the lights and then climbed the stairs to his bedroom. The low murmur of the T.V. was becoming more familiar to him now. In a way it was comforting to know that he wasn't alone in the huge, dark house.

 

 

 

Placing the papers on the top of the dresser, Draco stripped down to a muggle t-shirt and his boxers before pulling back the thick duvet and lying on top of the cold, rumpled sheets. A shiver ran over him and he laced his fingers over his stomach, staring up at the canopy over his bed. He wondered what the next few months would be like, in the lead-up to Christmas. Remus and Sirius would be busy trying to figure out what lessons to teach what age-group. Draco was going to be studying, with Remus as a more level-headed aid.

Perhaps he would get to see his Mother on Christmas Day?

The thought of Christmas in general made him nervous. What if the Weasel family wanted to come back over? What if it wasn't just the parents but the offspring as well? Draco felt his lips curl into a sneer out of habit. What if Granger showed up too? How was he supposed to face all of them?

His heart seemed to speed up at the thought.

He didn't have to see any of them. He could do as he'd been doing since day one; staying in his room, making no noise and pretending that he didn't exist.

It was better from everyone involved, anyway.

No interaction between himself, Granger and Weasel was ever going to go well, least of all in regards to Potter's current predicament. Granger would immediately start thinking of ways to reverse the potion, or at least speed the process up … to what end? She was dating Weasel, so why would she need Potter around?

As fucked up as it all was, Potter being a baby made sense after what he'd been through.

Granger and Weasley wouldn't see that, though.

They'd blame Sirius for being too childish and incompetent and blame Draco for simply being a Death Eater and in the same house.

Letting out a groan, Draco cupped his hand over his face and sighed. Why did he even care what those two morons thought about him? They'd always hated him, another year of dealing with their insolence was hardly going to break his bleeding little heart.

What if they wanted to come over regularly to be around Potter?

"Fucking brat," Draco hissed under his breath, feeling the ugly heat pooling in his belly.

He rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable. From downstairs, he heard Sirius turning the T.V. off and slowly make his way upstairs. He stopped off to check-in on Potter in his little nursery. He walked by Draco's door and paused. For a fleeting moment, Draco froze, barely daring to breathe. What if Sirius came in to check on him? He barely remembered the night they'd slept together in the same bed. He'd felt safe, comforted and as though he was understood, if even for a brief moment.

Swallowing thickly, he listened for the click of the door.

There was none.

Sirius continued on his way along the landing until he got to his own door and went inside.

Draco lie stiffly on his bed, ears strained for the tiniest sound of movement. He heard the creak of the springs in Sirius' bed as the man lie down on it. Would he sleep at all? Was he just as worried about what the coming weeks would bring? Eventually, Draco let himself relax, letting the coolness of the room lull him into a disjointed sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

"Are you sure you can handle all three of them?" Remus frowned, glancing over as Draco stood as still as a statue on the edge of the room, arms folded tightly against his chest.

Andromeda pursed her lips at her son-in-law. "I'm perfectly capable of copying, Remus," she stated briskly. "Teddy is a chirpy little thing, Harry can walk by himself now and Draco is quickly becoming my new favourite ornament, so kindly stop worrying yourself wretched and go with Sirius to sort out your office."

"We won't be gone too long –"

"Remus, everything will be fine," Sirius assured, slinging his arm around Remus' shoulders. "Like you said, we'll be there a few hours tops and then we'll be back to take everyone home for a nap and then their dinner."

Remus wrestled himself free from Sirius' embrace, ignoring the broad grin the brunette wore. "You'll floo us if anything happens, right?"

Sirius sighed, "Remy, do you want to stay here with the kids while I sort out the office?"

Amber eyes flew wide. "Absolutely not!" he snapped, flaring his arm in a decisive arc. "Knowing my luck, all the furniture will be bought from Zonko's and the rest will be bought from the Weasley's!"

"Then kindly get in the fireplace and floo your backside to our office."

"What about the rest of me?"

"Oh, go splinch yourself for all I care. Maybe you can leave that smart mouth of yours here for a change!" Sirius barked out, grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace. "Hogwarts School, Houndstooth Office!"

In a flash of green flames, he was gone.

Remus' jaw dropped to the floor. "McGonagall let him name the office, I should have known!"

Andromeda smirked at her son-in-law. "I suggest you go after him. There's no telling what that man will do just to one-up you."

"He's been gone all of thirty seconds, how much trouble do you think he'll cause?" Remus sighed.

Andromeda dropped a pointed look down at Harry who was staring up at her with wide, green eyes, and then cocked an eyebrow at Remus. "I don't need to tell you, dear, that thirty seconds is long enough for Sirius Black to be left unattended."

Grumbling, Remus snatched at the floo powder on the mantelpiece and repeated the name Sirius had shouted out. There was a flash of green flames and he, too, was gone.

Turning her attention to her temporary guests, Andromeda bounced Teddy up onto her hip and announced, "Who's ready to get baking?"

The look of fear on young Draco's face was almost enough for her to cackle. Almost.

 

 

 

From his position at the kitchen table, Draco watched as his Aunt and Potter made a mess of the baking ingredients. He wrinkled his nose at the clouds of flour that permeated the air. The counter-top was littered with broken egg shells and chocolate crumbs. Teddy seemed happy enough in his little carrier that had been charmed to rock gently whenever he got unsettled. Draco had an invitation extended to him to come and help, but he'd declined. It was bad enough that he was done to his last clean outfit –he kept eyeing the so-called washing machine in the kitchen but still had too much pride to ask how it worked –before he'd have to resort to muggle clothing.

He was not going to get it dirty.

Potter squealed as Andromeda starting mixing the icing the muggle way. Draco frowned but didn't comment; if he reminded anyone of his presence, they'd ask him to participate. He'd gone to the beach, hadn't he done enough already?

"That's the cupcakes all done!" Andromeda announced cheerfully, as she wiped her hands down on an apron. Picking Potter up, she flicked her wand at the kitchen counters and immediately they jumped up and started to wash themselves in the sink. Another flick made both herself and Potter clean again. Settling down at the kitchen table, she finally fixed her dark eyes on Draco. "Are you going to do anything other than sulk, Draco dear?"

He froze. Her mannerisms and her wild mass of dark curls –so much like his Aunt Bella.

She furrowed her brow before understanding dawn in her eyes. "I am not my sister, Draco. I fell in love with a muggle for crying out loud. Even if Bellatrix polyjuiced as me, she'd sooner eat her own vomit that even pretend to live my life."

"She'd dead," Draco murmured.

"I'm not sorry to see her go," Andromeda stated. "Once upon a time she was my sister. The woman who died was not the same girl I grew up with."

Draco's insides twisted, but he said nothing.

"So how are you finding it living with my dear cousin and little Harry?"

Draco almost rolled his eyes, but he had to remind himself of his manners. "It has its challenges," he said. "Sirius can be erratic at times. Potter is usually with him."

Andromeda stroked Potter's dark tuft of hair as he scribbled on a piece of paper with some weird, waxy sticks. "How have his friends taken the news of his predicament?"

Draco's head shot up. "I –I don't know. They're not my friends. They seem to be pretty preoccupied."

Andromeda hummed thoughtfully. "I can imagine it's been hard for Hermione. Last I heard they were in Australia trying to bring her parents' memories back. Imagine, having to erase your life from your own parents'? It doesn't bear thinking about."

Draco drank in her words without comment. Granger had obliviated her own parents before the war? How –How did she have the strength to accomplish that? A cold weight sank into his gut. All those times he had mocked her for being a muggleborn, all those times he had sneered at the very idea of her parents, and she'd sacrificed ever having them again, just to keep them safe.

He could never be that brave.

Tears glossed over his eyes and he tried to blink them away.

"Do you think they'll want to visit Harry when they come back to England?" Andromeda asked, pulling him out of his own head.

"I … I'm not sure. I suppose they will as soon as they know what's happened."

"That's true," she agreed. "School starts up again in just over a week. They might drop by unannounced before then."

Draco felt his shoulders tense. "There's no need for me to speak to them. If they've been reading the prophet then they'll know I'm living there, too."

"Have you enrolled in the new school year?" she asked, rhythmically bouncing Potter on her lap.

"Yes, but I'll be studying privately, avoiding the castle as much as I can." He let out a long sigh, "I can't go back there yet. Not after what I've done."

"I understand," she said. It sounded as if maybe she did. "For what it's worth, Draco, the war forced a lot of people to grow up before their time. People will come around eventually. Until then, just focus on what you want to do and what you need to do to get through this difficult time."

Draco tried to force a smile before taking a sip of his lemonade.

Potter grizzled and demanded Andromeda's attention of his pictures, most of them ridiculous scribbles. She crooned and cooed and ruffled his hair, even pressing a kiss to his cheek. Draco needed to remind himself just how un-jealous he was.

The floo in the kitchen fireplace roared to life, making Potter gasp, "Oh!"

The clock on the mantle chimed for 5pm. Where had the time gone?

Sirius and Remus ducked out of the floor, brushing soot from their clothes. Andromeda cleared her throat with a raised eyebrow. Both men froze, flushed and then banished the dirt from her kitchen floor.

Upon spotting Potter, Sirius beamed brightly and immediately scooped the brat into the air, twirled him overhead and them pressed big, sloppy kisses all over Potter as he squealed and laughed at Sirius' antics. Remus smiled adoringly, before lifting his own son out of the carrier and holding him tenderly against his chest. Teddy's hair flashed bright pink.

Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat. He was all too aware of how much of an outcast he was, even here.

As if sensing his thoughts, a hand rested on his shoulder.

"How're you holding up, kid?" Sirius asked, grinning down at him. Potter peaked around Sirius' mass of curls, his wide eyes watching Draco.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

"Did you bake cupcakes with Harry?"

"No."

Remus frowned from across the table. "So you just sat in the chair all afternoon?"

"Oh Remus don't fuss!" Andromeda admonished. She busied herself with levitating a tray of drinks over the table. Ice cubes clinked in the glasses and both men took one each, clearly relieved. "So, how did setting up the offices go?"

"It went well enough," Remus shrugged. "We had to enlarge the office to twice its size to fit both our desks and other equipment in. For the most part, though, it'll work well for us."

"Although Minerva has informed us that she'll be writing a letter informing the parents that she is employing a werewolf as a professor. She even has it approved by the Minister, just to shut up the board of governors. The last thing we need is a torrent of owls telling us werewolves aren't fit to teach," Sirius sneered at the last sentence.

"Paddy," Remus said, his voice low and soothing. Sirius looked up at him, their eyes locking. "It'll be fine," he soothed. "I'm a big boy, I can look after myself."

Sirius pulled a face, but there was no malice behind it. They two men really were like big teenagers. And they were meant to teach a class? Unbelievable.

"Okay, I think we should make a move and get ready for dinner," Sirius announced.

Draco drained the last of his drink and stood up, drifting over towards the fireplace. He leaned against the mantelpiece, ead bowed to the floor as he watched out of the corner of his eye; Sirius kissed Andromeda on the cheek, still juggling Potter against his hip, and then turned to Remus. They exchanged a few words, probably about Remus coming to spend the night at Grimmauld place. The amber-eyed man seemed deflated, shrugging haplessly and shaking his head 'no, not tonight'. Draco could vividly picture a tail and ears drooping at the soft rejection. The way Sirius was holding onto Remus' curved arm, the way his hand stroked down, lingering just a little too long.

Were they …?

"Ready to go Draco?" Sirius asked, reaching across him for the floo powder pot.

Draco jolted, his cheeks blushing. "Y-yes," he said. "Is Remus not coming with us?"

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him. "No. Remus is staying here tonight. He's had a long day."

Draco nodded mutely, giving a tight-lipped smile and wave over his shoulder as Sirius disappeared through the floo. Taking a pinch of powder himself, he stepped up into the grate, grimacing at the mess of ash that clung to the bottom of his trousers, before clearing his throat.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

The green flames roared to life. Andromeda, Remus and Teddy disappeared in a flurry of flames, the emerald green searing through into his brain. He clamped his eyes shut and clenched his jaw hard as the swirling sensation threatened to make him topple sideways. He always tried to stand perfectly still. One wrong move and he'd be falling out of some poor witch's fireplace.

 

 

Eventually, the floo network spat him out; he staggered out of the fireplace almost catching his feet on the hearthrug on the other end.

He'd barely bent down to dust himself off before he was hurled backwards against the nearest wall, the engravings biting into his flesh as something thin and sharp was pressed right against his throat. His vision barely caught up with what was happening before a cacophony of shouts assaulted his ears.

"Ron, drop your wand now!"

"Ron, don't you dare!"

Forcing his eyes to adjust to the face leering down at him, Draco forced his mouth up into a sneer, purely out of habit.

"Good evening Weasley," he smirked, even as the fist at his collar tightened even further, causing him to avidly focus on breathing slowly and carefully. He did his best to hide the fear threatening to pour out of his veins as he jutted out his chin and arched an eyebrow. "It's been a while."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a cliff-hanger because I am so deliciously evil like that!


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 

 

 

 

The wand pressing into his throat was making him panic a little but he refused to let it show on his face.

Around him, Sirius and Granger were snapping in all manner of octaves for Weasley to drop his damned wand and let him go. Draco did his best to keep his cool demeanour in tact as, finally, Sirius stepped up to them and took Weasley's wrist in a death grip and forced it away. Whatever the redhead man was feeling, it was now being shared equally between Sirius and Draco.

"I will  _not_  have you attacking  _my_  family in  _my_  house, do you understand me, Ronald?" Sirius demanded, a tinge of manic aggression tinting his words. It was rare he shouted, so very rare, for he'd never had any need to, save for arguing with his family way back when.

Draco dared to look up at the ginger. Despite the ugly shade of red staining his face and clashing with his hair, he lowered his wand up, nostrils flaring the entire time. It was only then that Draco realised Sirius didn't have Potter cradled against him.

"Fuck, Sirius where's Potter?" he snapped, forcing himself off the wall. Damn, if the man had lost Potter, he was never going to live it down.

"It's okay I have him," Granger's voice dispelled his heated panic.

Draco straightened and regarded her coolly, "I see."

The tense atmosphere vibrated around them. Sirius took Potter away from Granger and murmured to him, their heads bent together. From his angle, Draco could just about see the tears in Potter's green eyes and the way his mouth twisted downward. He felt a wave of negative emotions rush through him, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. It hadn't been a gratifying day by any means.

Granger and Weasley regarded him, their expressions so easy to read, it was like an open wound.

"I'm going to put Harry to bed," Sirius stated matter-of-factly. "If I hear  _anything_  other than talking, I will alter the wards so that neither of you can come back, do I make myself clear?"

"Sirius are you honestly defending this Death Eater?" Weasley sneered.

Sirius turned his sharp, blue eyes onto the redheaded teen. Weasley may have been tall for his age, but he had nothing on Sirius. The man may have only been an inch or two taller, but his immaculate attire and personality resonated throughout. "I am defending no one, Ron. Draco is my cousin, he was acquitted on probation and cannot do magic. Whatever he may or may not have done to you, it's in the past and we are moving-on as of now. If you cannot deal with it, I'm sure Kreacher will be happy to escort you back to the Burrow."

His tone was final and with that, he carried Potter out of the room.

As the door shut behind him, Weasley turned to Draco with an ugly sneer, "Just because you have Sirius on your side, ferret, doesn't mean that I'm about to trust you after the shit you've pulled!"

"Yes, I'd gathered that, Weaselbee," Draco retorted coolly.

Granger sighed and rolled her eyes behind them. She'd stowed her wand away and hugged her arms around her. She looked more dishevelled than when she'd been in sixth year potions; her curly hair was in disarray and unravelling from a scruffy braid, her clothes hung off her a little too much and there were dark bags under her eyes. Draco knew he didn't look that much better. Despite being at Sirius' dinner table three times a day, he'd barely put on any weight since the trials.

He shook the thoughts aside before he actually felt  _empathetic_  towards Granger.

"This is all just a shock to us," Granger stated as she wandered over absently towards one of the armchairs. As she sank onto the edge of it, she raked a hand through her hair. "We were hardly expecting to come back to find Harry as a child."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with your bed-mate jabbing his wand at me?" he sneered.

Granger flushed and Weasley turned an even uglier shade of red, his grip on his wand tightening.

"We should have been told," she sounded exhausted, like she didn't have much fight left in her.

"So talk to Sirius, not me."

"What exactly do you know of the matter?"

"I have nothing to say," Draco stated. He folded his arms over his chest, and tried to focus on his breathing.

He didn't see how Granger was smeared with dirt and running from Nagini.

He wasn't seeing Weasley cling to her in what could have been their final moments.

He didn't feel sick that he almost got them all killed …

" _Draco?_ " Granger's voice was distorted. Why was she wavering? He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, but that just made him want to vomit. " _Draco are you okay?_ "

"Fine," he snapped, trying to take deep breaths. "I'll be right back."

He walked briskly out of the lounge as quickly as he could before hurrying up the stairs to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he ran the taps until the water was cold and splashed his face and neck. He shivered and coughed before cupping water in his hands and gulping it down.

_Just breathe …_

_The war is over …_

_Just breathe …_

A knock came at the door.

" _Draco? Are you alright?"_  came Sirius' voice. Potter must have gotten settled, then.

"Fine," he choked back. "I'll be down in a bit."

There was a pause before Sirius made his way along the landing and descended the stairs. Straining his ears, Draco could hear the murmuring of their voices. He needed to get a grip on himself. He needed to get the next hour or two whilst Sirius filled in the other members of the golden trio about what had happened to Saint Potter, and then he could go to bed and try to forget this nightmare of a day.

 

 

 

 

The fire in the kitchen crackled away as Sirius cast a non-verbal spell for the iced tea to be served to everyone at the table. Granger cupped her hands around the base, stroking the condensation with her fingers absent-mindedly. Not once did she take a sip. Weasley, on the other hand, seemed to drink his beverage in the most passive-aggressive manner possible. His anger was still simmering a mere breadth beneath the surface. Draco couldn't help but assume that he could very well blink in an offensive manner, and the redhead would lose his collective shit.

As he sat down at the table, a glass swerved across the woodwork in front of him. Glancing up at Sirius, he felt his insides twist as the older man winked at him and gave an imperceptible nod for him to drink. He took a small, obligated sip.

Drawing in a deep breath, Granger broke the silence. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have rushed home and tried to talk him out of it."

Sirius regarded her for a moment, his face revealing none of his inner thoughts. "Harry had a lot on his mind to deal with, Hermione. You mustn't feel offended that he didn't include either of you in this decision. This was something he wanted to do for himself."

"I just … why, Sirius?" she turned large brown eyes to the older man. "I don't understand why he thought this was necessary."

"He wasn't able to deal with the things he did, the things he saw. Truthfully, he may have played to a weakness with my own personality," Sirius admitted, stroking his forefinger around the rim of his glass. "He didn't know what to do with the new life he was able to live. He was fully willing to do what needed to be done. He made his peace with that. He was at a loose end."

"That doesn't mean the answer to that was to bloody go and de-age himself," Weasley groused.

"Perhaps not," Sirius agreed. "However, on the same note, this was the one thing he's asked of anyone in a very long time. If it doesn't aid him in any way, then we can just hold our hands up as it being a failed experiment. For now, I want to be able to give Harry a better childhood than what he had originally. Maybe that can help ease some of the earlier trauma he suffered."

"You can't undo certain things, Sirius," Granger sighed wistfully.

"I'm willing to try," the older man retorted. "As it stands, Harry doesn't remember any of you, so you're welcome to stop by if and when you can. Just let me know beforehand. Things will be trickier once he ages to eleven again, but we have a little while before that becomes an issue."

Granger looked as though she wanted to lecture Sirius on the blasé attitude, but closed her mouth at the last second.

"Plus, I don't get why we weren't told about Harry's situation, but this blonde git gets to live  _in the same house_  as well as knowing about it!"

"Believe me, I've hardly enjoyed watching Potter burp carrots and peas on himself every other night," Draco remarked drily.

Granger frowned at him.

"Draco is here because he has no other family to take care of him whilst he's on probation," Sirius stated.

"I guess that what happens when all your family are Death Eaters."

"Ron!"

"That's enough!" Sirius barked, slamming his fist on the table. They all jumped. "Now you listen to me; I am sick to my back teeth of this petty fighting and all the other pureblood whining bullshit! As long as you are under my roof and in my presence, I will not tolerate an ounce of it. Do you hear me? That goes for all of you.

Furthermore, if anyone has an issue with Draco being here, kindly find a reason for him to leave. He is my family, my blood, and he  _stays_. Harry did not fight and die for us, to have this bullshit carry on when he's sleeping just two floors above us! Do not cheapen his sacrifice because you don't like what Draco did to you in school. Bullying does nothing but encourage the crap that got us into this mess in the first place."

Draco glanced at Granger and Weasley. He suppressed a proud smirk at the shameful tint in their cheeks.

Clearing his throat, Sirius straightened his jacket and hair before taking a drink of his iced tea. "Now, are we going to discuss the future terms and conditions of your visiting Harry?"

"We need a contract to see our best friend?" Weasley gaped incredulously.

"If he's your best friend where have you been all summer when he needed you?" Draco couldn't resist snapping back. Merlin's balls, he really did know how to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. He knew perfectly well where they'd been, thanks to Andromeda. Not that they had any reason to believe he would know this.

Before Weasley could open his mouth, Granger replied, "We were in Australia with my parents. There were … complications due to the war. We were helping them make sense of it all. They'll be coming back to the UK by Christmas."

' _Interesting_ ,' Draco thought. ' _Granger's more devious than I gave her credit for_.'

Sirius flicked his wand and summoned a roll of parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill. "Right, let's try and organise this," he muttered to himself, readjusting his position in the chair. "You two will be attending Hogwarts in September, correct?"

"Yes," the Gryffindor's replied in unison.

"So you would have weekends free to do as you please?"

"Depending on what we're studying at the time and any Quidditch practice, if that's even a factor for eighth years, then yes, generally," Granger said.

Sirius nodded and scribbled some notes. "And obviously you'll have to take note of when there's a full moon as you won't be allowed around at that time."

"Surely we could be more help to you then," Granger interjected. "If you wanted to keep Remus company during the full moon, Ron and I could help Draco look after Harry and Teddy."

"Excuse me, I am not Potter's care-giver," Draco ground out. "I just happen to be in the same house."

Sirius did his best to conceal a smile behind his moustache. "Perhaps we should stick with visiting every now and then when you can manage it?" he stated carefully. "We can revisit this after Christmas when Harry has gotten more used to you two, however he's still very wary of strangers. We can't overwhelm him."

Granger frowned a little but didn't argue. What Sirius said was true, it was a wonder Potter didn't cry whenever Draco entered the room. Remembering those vivid green eyes made Draco feel tense and edgy. He took another, long sip of his drink.

"Fine, that's fine," Granger finally said, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I'm too tired to argue anymore. This summer has been nothing but nerves, tension and sleepless nights. I almost don't even want to go back to Hogwarts and deal with more stress …" her voice wavered a little.

Weasley wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and squeezed. He wasn't looking too well-off either, now that the angry redness and faded.

Sirius reached out and cupped his hand over Granger's. She looked up at him, blinking tears away. "Things will get easier from here on out, Hermione. You just need to have patience."

"How can I when one of my best friends is a toddler?" she sniffed.

Sirius smiled affectionately. "We all deal with things in our own way. Harry de-aged himself and you guys went on your own little mission halfway across the world. You need time to process everything." He paused for a moment before asking, "Are you two okay for a place to stay, or do you want to sleep in one of the spare rooms?"

Draco's heart rate spiked. No, no, no, no! They couldn't stay! He'd be beyond tense until they left the following day. He couldn't deal with the heat, the nightmares and insomnia!

"Oh no that's alright," Granger waved the offer away. "Molly's expecting us back at the Burrow, we just said we were popping by here first." She paused for a moment before her eyes widened. "Molly knows too, doesn't she?"

Sirius nodded.

"Merlin's fucking bollocks!" Weasley snapped, kicking at the table leg as he stood up. "I'm going to have serious words with her when we get in!"

"Oh, Ron, just leave it be! We know now, let's just leave it alone."

"No, she could have warned us what we were in for!"

"We made her swear not to, along with Andromeda and Arthur. It's too risky for Harry's protection," Sirius stated. "You two must adhere to the agreement also."

"Of course," Granger said reflexively. "We're not idiots, we kept Harry's secrets all through the build-up to the war, we're not about to be careless now."

It would have been a weak argument from anyone else, but even Draco had to admit that the whole reason Rita Skeeter had to make up crap about Potter was because she could never find out any real gossip about the Boy Wonder.

 

 

 

 

Granger and Weasley stayed until their glasses were empty before Sirius escorted them out towards the floo in the front parlour. The distant roar of the flames carrying them away was almost comforting to Draco. He sat, rigid as a board at the kitchen table, staring at his unfinished drink. He couldn't deny his relief at them finally leaving. He felt like he could breathe again, as though he wasn't walking on glass.

"That went a lot better than I expected," Sirius said from behind him as he closed the kitchen door. He dropped down onto the level flooring, and collapsed into the nearest chair. He sighed heavily before catching sight of Draco's deadpan expression. "Despite the rather poky beginning on your end."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yeah well, Weasley always did have a temper on him. Apparently the war hasn't helped."

Sirius snorted. "I don't see why it would."

Draco didn't comment. He drained the last of his drink, grimacing at the gritty sugar residue at the bottom.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" Sirius asked his voice low, almost caring.

Draco shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to see."

"You're welcome to wake me up if things are getting a bit too hard on you, you know?" Sirius said. "Just give me a good kick to wake me and I'll help you in any way I can."

"You don't need to lose sleep over me," Draco stated. "I can deal with this on my own."

"I'm aware," the older man said. "I'm merely saying that you don't have to do that anymore, not if you don't want to."

Draco closed his eyes and drew in deep, calming breaths. "I think I'll head up now if you don't mind. It's been a taxing evening."

Sirius gave a silent nod, his eyes following the blonde teen as he walked out of the kitchen.

The stairs creaked so loudly it was a wonder that Walburga didn't start screaming from where her portrait had been buried in the back garden.

Nothing had changed, not really. As Draco lie on top of his bed-covers, the sticky heat making him perspire and fidget relentlessly in the stiff gloom, he couldn't help but feel physically sick at having seen Weasley and Granger earlier that evening. He'd thought he'd done a decent job of blocking out the worst parts of the war, only having to suffer the snippets in his deepest of nightmares.

However, seeing two ghosts from said nightmares was terrifying.

They didn't plead for him to kill them, to spare them, to rid them of their pain by any means possible.

They didn't laugh and leave him to burn in the Fiendfyre.

They didn't come to his trial just to throw owl shit at him.

"I'm  _not_  weak!" he growled under his breath, his sweaty hands clenching into fists. "I am a Malfoy! Malfoy's are not weak! We rise above all that makes others weak!"

The words rang hollow in his ears.

If Malfoy's were not weak, then how come his father was in Azkaban? Was that his medal of honour? If Malfoy's were not weak, then why did Narcissa and Draco quietly accept their fates and go about life as though nothing has changed for them?

He was a coward.

He  _was_  weak.

A raw sob scratched out of his throat. He pressed his hands over his mouth, trying to suffocate the sobs and the hot tears that bubbled inside his head but refused to come out of his eyes. He lie there, trembling on his bed for a good twenty minutes before his stomach churned and he had to run to the bathroom.

He dry-heaved over the bowl, only a bit of stomach acid and phlegm dribbling out.

He took his time making sure that nothing else was coming up.

Drawing in deep breaths, Draco pulled the chain and sat on the bathroom floor, hunched over with his sweaty face in his hands. It was cooler in the bathroom at least, despite this one not having a window. Once he'd managed to calm himself down and force himself to stand, he brushed the foul taste out of his mouth and rinsed with a peppermint flavoured concoction. Rinsing his mouth out one last time, he avoided looking at his reflection head-on, before heading out onto the landing, turning the light off manually as he went.

At the end of the landing, he paused.

Turning left, he found himself in front of Sirius' door. There was a dull gold light dancing under the doorframe.

Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

Sirius was asleep, splayed out like a starfish across his bed. Draco was torn between wanting to see Sirius wake up just so that he wasn't alone in his suffering, and skulking back to his own room and not cause more drama.

However, the promise of a long, sleepless night was enough to make him reach out and prod his cousin's shoulder.

"Sirius?" he hissed quietly, almost wanting the man to not hear him. "Sirius!" He full-on shoved the older man onto his side.

A hand shot out and grabbed his arm, the other pointing a wand to his face.

Mania ebbed out of the steely blue eyes as realisation dawned on Sirius. "Sorry, Draco," he gushed, tossing his wand aside and gripping the blonde by the shoulders. Draco could feel the adrenaline thrumming in his palms. "Force of habit," he hedged, before bending down to peer into Draco's eyes. "You haven't slept," he observed.

"N-no," Draco swallowed thickly, the grip on his shoulders making him regret his decision.

"You went up before me."

He simply nodded.

Sirius' eyes softened as did his death grip on Draco's shoulders. "Climb on in, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."

Tense, tired and an over-wired brain going a million miles an hour, Draco tried to retreat to the door. "Sorry, this was a mistake. I'll go."

He was halfway out of the door before Sirius called out, "Draco, I promised you, you could come to me if this became an issue again." A pause. "We don't have to talk about but if it helps you sleep for now, I'm here."

Why was it so tempting?

Why, why, why?

Releasing his grip on the door-handle, Draco let it fall closed in its frame before turning to observe Sirius in his king sized bed. Finally, he pursed his lips and nodded, going to the other side of the bed and laid down on the cool covers. Sirius reclined back onto the pillows without saying another word; he merely offered Draco a soft understanding smile, before lacing his fingers cross his chest and closing his eyes.

The floating orbs dimmed their light, making it easier for Draco to relax.

Soon enough, Sirius fell back asleep, his gently snores almost a comfort compared to the voices that screamed in his nightmares. Subconsciously, his breathing pattern seemed to sync with his cousin's and within the hour, Draco fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry baby Harry wasn't here to give you some gooey-ness but I promise he'll be around next time! ;)
> 
> What do we feel about Draco and Sirius' relationship???


	13. Chapter 12: September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To clear up some points people on here and Fanfiction are STILL not grasping with this story (yes, these are all true);
> 
> 1\. I do not, and have never, condoned the fact that Draco used Unforgivable curses on Katie Bell and Rosmerta as well as inadvertently poisoning Ron. He did not intend for Katie to touch the cursed necklace and Rosmerta suffered no major side-effects.
> 
> 2\. This is a slow build story, so Draco will NOT be having wet-dreams and shagging a CHILD HARRY POTTER. Any and all reviews based on this will continue being deleted.
> 
> 3\. Draco will be allowed back at Hogwarts once a week to hand in assignments and eventually, sit his exams. Each and every time he will be escorted by Aurors and / or Remus and Sirius. He is still on probation and has had his magic suppressed and his wand confiscated. He has no immediate means for performing magic or harming anyone.
> 
> 4\. Draco was a bully. Sad, but yes he was. He tormented Harry and his friends for years. He no doubt learned that from his father, who was also a bully.
> 
> 5\. I do not condemn Draco, who was sixteen, for doing everything in his power to help protect his family, even if that meant becoming a Death Eater. However, he did not want to kill, all his attempts were shoddy at best. Draco is really smart so if he had wanted to kill Dumbledore I have no doubt he could have managed easily enough. His heart simply wasn't in it; he may have been a bully but he isn't a murderer.
> 
> 6\. Ron may have been a victim of Draco's, by mistake, but at this moment, he was the one who launched an unprovoked attack on a defenceless wizard in his own home. Bit of a dick move, regardless of history.
> 
> 7\. Sirius is not defending Death Eaters, he is defending DRACO, as his own, lone person. As his estranged cousin who needs help. Sirius followed the trial and accepted custody. The man has been through two wars and barely has family left. He saw a chance to help, to make a bit of a difference, a home when Draco had nothing else, and gave it. Just like the Potters gave to him when he ran away from home. He is helping a young boy with nowhere else to go, to get his life back on track after screwing up big time.
> 
> This story is set on the premise of second chances.

**Chapter Twelve**

 

 

_**~ September ~** _

 

As September first crept up on them, Sirius and Remus attempted to get the occupants of Number Twelve into a more stable routine in order to allow both of them to work a set number of lessons during the week, and have enough time at home. It seemed to go well for the most part. They would rotate who would cook on what night, which meant Draco had to learn how to use the muggle cooker, there was just no way around it. Remus had even devised a system on a black board in the kitchen; everyone would cook at least two nights in the week, with one take-away on the Saturday night.

It was unanimously decided that, on the weeks of the full moon, Sirius and Draco would take over Remus' duties, fifty-fifty.

That also meant, getting Potter into some idea of a routine, too.

This was the part Draco detested. He shouldn't really be expected to help Potter toddle to the bathroom before his bedtime, or to make sure he brushed his teeth properly. That was all Sirius, hands down.

Draco just about remembered to brush his own teeth before bed, let alone be responsible for another person.

As the days wore on, there was another subject that Draco had been keenly avoiding; shopping for his new school supplies, the lack of money to pay for it that wasn't in his own name, and the fact that at least once a week he was to floo into the school in order to hand in his assignments to the respective professors was enough to make him heave. He had wanted to simply owl them in, however McGonagall had been insistent that he do it in person.

He'd gritted his teeth when he'd agreed to  _that_.

 

 

 

They had just one week left before term started before Sirius finally sauntered into the kitchen, slapped down the list of books Draco had secreted in his sock drawer on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. Before he could open his mouth to argue, Sirius held a hand up, silencing him. "No excuses. I want you up, dressed like a human being and by the floo in ten minutes. We're getting those supplies whether you liked it or not, Draco Malfoy."

Gritting his teeth, the blonde teen shoved himself to his feet. "Have I ever told you I despise you?" he sneered over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen door.

"Countless times," Sirius deadpanned. "It's like my five-a-day."

Draco flipped him off, which earned him a bark of laughter.

He stomped up to his room and flung his wardrobe open, looking for one of the few respectable outfits he had left. He was just fastening the buttons up around his throat when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Someone was in the room.

Whipping around, his hand reached for a wand that was nowhere to be seen. His sudden movement had startled Potter, who gasped and ducked back around the door frame. Scowling, both at himself and the bug-eyed brat, Draco straightened his shirt forcefully and yanked the bedroom door open. Toddler Potter practically yelped in surprise.

"What're you doing here?" Draco sneered, eyeing the brat's attire of cheap muggle shorts and a basic printed t-shirt.

"Are we going out today?" Potter asked, ignoring Draco's question.

Scowling deeper, he replied, "Yes."

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping."

"What for?"

"Books."

"Why do you need books for?"

"To study magic."

"Oh." Potter was silent for a moment, his little eyebrows furrowing together. "I thought magic wasn't real."

Draco felt something inside him twitch as the sheer absurdity of that comment, child or not. "Of course magic is real. Who on earth told you otherwise?"

Toddler Potter seemed to shrink in on himself, his small shoulders hunching as he fiddled with the strings on his shorts. "Uncle Vernon," was the mumbled reply.

A tirade of insults was at the very tip of his tongue. It was only when the side of the child before him sunk in, did he swallow the words and try to calm the anger inside him. Whom he was angry at, he didn't know. Clearing his throat he felt himself crouching down. "Well you know what that makes your uncle, don't you?"

Potter shook his head, still not looking up.

"That makes him wrong and very, very st-silly."

Large, green eyes looked up at him in awe. It was unsettling seeing an entire world tipped on its head in the toddler's expression. His mouth dropped open and Draco was jolted back to the first time he'd seen Potter enter the Great Hall at Hogwarts; his whole life had been transformed and he relished the thought.

Yet, with a few simple words, he had done the same for Potter.

He suddenly felt very hot and uncomfortable. Why did that make him feel …  _good_?

Shaking the thought aside, he stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him. He barely waited for the brat as he made his way towards the staircase, "Come on, scarhead, we're going."

 

 

 

 

Diagon Alley was just as he remembered it, both the good and the bad.

Draco suddenly felt a rush of vertigo as he passed by the bank and the neighbouring shops; the place had been rebuilt in the long months after the war, but there were still empty shop windows, still that weird black scorch mark along some walls. Nothing got rid of curse marks, he knew that all too well.

His forearm itched under the long sleeve of his shirt.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and leaned in to murmur in his ear, "We only need to go to a few shops. Then we can have a drink in the Leaky after, if you're up for it?"

"Yeah, sure," Draco swallowed. He wasn't ready for this. He was almost certain Fenrir Greyback was going to lurch out of the shadowy alleyway and slice his claws through his chest.

"Let's just get to Flourish and Blotts before the crowds get bad," Sirius advised. "Come on, Harry. You know the rule, you have to hold my hand."

Harry was distracted, but his hand obligingly shot out and sought Sirius'. His eyes were wide, taking in all the strange and wonderful things that whizzed about in shop windows or drifted overhead.

They made it into Flourish and Blotts without incident, although a few people had shot curious glances down at Potter. Perhaps they were just surprised to see Sirius Black with a toddler in tow.

The smell of parchment and ink hit him with a deep longing unfurling inside him, like being welcomed home after a long journey to a place you hadn't even realised had been missed in the first place. He felt like he was in a trance as he watched books levitate from one shelf to another. It caused an aching chasm to open within his chest. He really missed being able to do magic. While he could study it and pass his theory and written exams, that didn't mean not being able to do the practical side, until after his probation, was like a noose around his neck gradually growing tighter and tighter.

"Don't let it panic you," Sirius murmured as he nudged Draco further into the shop. "We'll get what we came for and back out again, okay?"

Draco nodded, mutely.

It was the tensest fifteen minutes of his life, having to stay near the corners and alcoves while Sirius asked where to find his books. Regardless of the outcome of the trial, Draco was aware of hundreds of eyes passing over him. It was the hair that gave him away before anything else. It made his insides cold as he hunched his shoulders and fingered his lip, pretending to read the spines of the books stacked before him.

"Got them," Sirius announced with a neatly wrapped brown parcel containing –from the feel of it –the ten tomes Draco required for the school year. Anything else could be ordered via owl, but these ones were only available in bookstores. Sirius flicked his wand, shrinking the parcel down to tuck into his pocket. "Where to next?"

"The apothecary?"

"Perfect. That's only three shops down."

The apothecary shop was dimly lit, crowded and gloomy, the scent of various unpleasant ingredients mingling in the stale air. Yet, there was something homey and familiar about it all that set Draco's frantic mind at ease, even just for a few minutes. He eyed the bottles containing eyeballs or twitching fingers, and barely batted an eyelash at the dragon's tongues thrashing about in a jar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter stare up at a jar of eyes and jump out of his skin when all the eyes turned to look at him.

His mouth smirked before he realised what was happening. Forcing the expression off his face, he sighed and strode over to Potter. "Are you scaring the eyeballs, Potter?"

"They scare me."

"I'm sure anything looking at your face would be scared." Looking down, he saw that Potter's puny brain didn't grasp the sarcasm. That made Draco feel …  _bad_? He frowned at the idea. Perhaps it just wasn't fun to throw tons of insults at Potter and get nothing back? He did always like their repertoire after all. It was oddly refreshing, even if the dunderhead never thought of anything creative to throw at him. Another sigh escaped him. He reached out a hand and steered the child away from the jar towards a large cage filled with pixies. Their shredded wings cluttered the bottom of the cage and gleamed a brilliant blue. Potter was in awe with them. "Do you like these?"

"What are they?"

"Pixies."

"They sound funny."

Draco smirked, "Yes, they do."

"I've ordered everything you need and it'll be delivered by Friday," Sirius' voice sounded loud and booming in the hushed atmosphere of the shop. Draco flinched a little but tried to show that he wasn't on edge, that he could handle this. Sirius frowned, "What's wrong with Harry?"

It was only then that Draco realised his hand was still on the brat's shoulder. He jerked it away. "Nothing, he's fine. He just wanted to look at the pixies."

A studious expression glimmered in Sirius' eyes but he didn't press the matter. Draco was grateful for that. They made their way out of the shop and into the bustling throng of people rushing from shop to shop to buy their children brand new essentials for their first year at Hogwarts. Draco tried not to feel hot shame as they bustled past.

As they walked towards the bank, Draco felt a weight on the back of his neck. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a group of teens around his age stood to one side, eyes openly staring at him. They didn't even try to hide how they leaned in and murmured things to one another. He swallowed tightly and hurried to catch up to his cousin.

"Where else do we need to go?" he asked, keeping his head down, eyes averted.

Sirius adjusted his grip on Potter, having insisted he carry the child in a crowded street now, and glanced up at the bank. "I did need to speak to a goblin about some money transfers, but it's not wholly important."

"Please, don't let me stop you."

Sirius took in Draco's hunched, tense appearance and frowned. He'd known this wouldn't have been easy for the teen but he had also known that being holed away all summer wasn't helping things either. It probably didn't help that the dark mouth of Knockturn alley was just within view. Draco needed to face some of the demons lurking in his mind. He'd done well so far. "Maybe we should grab something to eat at the Leaky, how does that sound?"

Draco's expression remained stoic but the relief shone bright in his grey eyes. With a curt nod, they turned and made their way back up the alley towards the brick wall at the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

The more distance Draco put between himself and Knockturn alley, the more his father's voice receded in his head. It never went away completely, though.

Later that evening, Draco stared at the calendar pinned to the kitchen wall. It was such a muggle thing that it made his teeth itch, but Sirius insisted that sometimes it was good to have reminders glaring you in the face. He didn't appreciate how his therapy sessions had been marked in red on Thursdays. Dr. Lisa had been insisting he'd made some 'progress' but he didn't see how. He thought she was just humouring him, she got paid either way. There were only three days left before the autumn term started up.

Three days left until Potter turned three.

Three days left until he would be left to take care of the brat, all day long.

He ground his teeth and sighed, wishing nothing more than to unearth Black's secret stash of alcohol –he knew the man had one –and drown his sorrows in the cellar. He settled for pumpkin juice.

As he made his way back to his bedroom, he listened in at Potter's nursery door; Sirius was in there, his low voice reading a bedtime story as he gently rocked the toddler to and fro in his lap in the rocking chair. Draco moved on to his own room before he was caught again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

 

Potter turned three on a Tuesday night.

He'd been as moody as child could be without any root-cause, but that didn't mean any of it was pleasant to watch. He started to get really hot and restless at about 6pm. Remus had just settled Teddy down for the night and had helped Sirius to bathe Potter in the bathroom before transfiguring his pyjama's to be bigger. They'd dressed him and taken him into the main bedroom. He hadn't eaten any supper.

Draco had watched all this in mute horror as Potter had grown paler by the minute.

The growing-pains starting with gut-wrenching sobs and weeping. Even through the walls, it struck every nerve in Draco's body. It was a wonder he didn't fly from the comfort of his room and into the main bedroom just to see that they weren't actually torturing the kid. He'd laid in the dark, eyes clamped shut and his breathing hard in his ears as Potter's whimpering pierced through his brain.

 

' _Stop snivelling like that, you brat! Malfoy's don't snot down their clothes!_ '

' _No, Daddy, not the cane! Not the cane! I won't do it again, I promise!_ '

' _This'll teach you to mind your manners!_ '

"It's not real, it's not real!" Draco hissed through gritted teeth, groping at the clammy sheets sticking to his skin. "I'm not at the manor. I'm not with him."

' _Draco, what's this I hear about you getting attacked by a hippogriff?_ '

' _It was an accident, father. I was proving a point that the oaf didn't deserve to teach_.'

' _You let yourself get attacked in the process_.'

' _It justifies my point!_ '

"Don't do it, don't do it, please don't do it …"

' _Needlessly. Let me see the damage_.'

' _M-Madame Pomphrey already did, father. It's just a few scratches, easily fixed. No scarring_.'

' _I'll be the judge of that_.'

"No, no, no, no, no …"

' _FUCK! SHIT! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING ARM!_ '

' _Maybe next time you won't be so careless as to jeopardise my position at the school, boy._ '

 

Draco scrambled over the edge of the bed, barely thinking in his actions as he slid across the wooden floorboards. He hyperventilated as he pressed against a wall, clawing at his hair, his skin, his clothes, making sure everything was real. He as real, he was  _here_  and not at the manor. His father was in prison, he couldn't touch him here.

He took in the dark shadows of his room and a fresh wave of fear overwhelmed him. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he choked on rough, wet breaths as he listened to his heart drumming away.

"It's not real! It's not real!" he ground out through gritted teeth. He could hear the bone crunching together in his jaw. "It's not fucking real!"

His left arm felt prickly, where the mark had been.  _Was_. It was never going away, not even if it had discoloured and scabbed over.

Raising his arm to his mouth, he bit deep into the flesh, relishing in the sparks of pain shooting up his arm. His head banged against the wall, a steady thumping rhythm that eventually drew Remus to his doorway.

The light was like a solar flare in his eyes.

"Draco what're you doing?!"

"Leave me alone!"

His arm was yanked away from his face. He tasted blood. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the damage. "Oh, Draco …" The tip of a wand pressed against his flesh. Remus murmured something and drew patterns with the wand. His skin stung, earning a gasp from his raw throat, but when Draco opened his eyes, the scabbed scar was exactly as it had been yesterday.

No blood and no bite marks to be seen.

"Do you want to tell me what this was about?"

Draco tensed. "I had a nightmare."

"About what?"

"My father."

Remus was silent for a moment but didn't press. Instead, he took Draco's arm and lifted him to his feet. The motion made the blonde's head spin, but he staggered against Remus for support as they made their way out of the room and down the landing towards Sirius' room. Draco only realised where they were when the dim golden light glowed in his face. He shied away from it, recoiling into himself.

Sirius watched them from his position half-propped up on his elbow and a pillow, his left hand gently rubbing circles over Potter's tummy. It looked so tender and soothing that fresh tears sprang to Draco's eyes. Why had no one ever rubbed his tummy when he was poorly?

He rubbed roughly at his face, trying to stifle any sobs that threatened to come out. Remus touched his shoulder to see if he was okay, but he shoved off the comforting hand, despite aching to make a grab for it.

"Draco, come and sleep in here with us tonight," Sirius kept his voice low so that Potter didn't stir.

"No," he choked out. "I'm fine."

This time Remus managed to get an arm around his shoulders and Draco gave-in. He let himself be guided to the side of the bed facing the window. Sirius was in the middle with Potter on the side Draco was expected to climb into. He froze at the thought. Another nudge from Remus made him swallow what dregs he had left of his pride and climb in under the sheet.

He listened to Remus pad around the bed and slip in on Sirius' other side, giving him easy access for when Teddy fussed during the night.

Draco made a point of lying on his side, facing away from the others. He didn't want to talk, no good would come of his talking. His throat was sore, his eyes ached and every muscle was quivering with adrenaline. A shiver ran through him and he drew the bed sheet up around his shoulders.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Sirius' low voice caught his attention a little while later. He strained to hear what the older man was saying without being too obvious.

"He said he was having a nightmare about his father," Remus replied softly. "I don't know what triggered it. Maybe Harry being ill? I don't know for sure."

"Do you think Harry and Draco will be okay together when we're working?"

"One of us will always be at home, Paddy."

"I know, I know," the older man sighed. "I just worry. They weren't exactly friends to begin with."

"Are you letting what Ron and Hermione said, get to you?"

"Not that specifically. I wanted to be there for Harry, to give him a better childhood away from that abusive family." Sirius paused, choosing his words carefully, "That maybe some of these memories could give him a better foundation for dealing with memories of the war."

"You know it could always go the other way, though," Remus sighed, shuffling about under the sheets. Maybe they were facing each other now? "Harry might so get confused about all these memories. He might become paranoid, trying to figure out which memories are real and which are fake."

"They'd all be real."

"Precisely my point."

Sirius hummed in thought. "I'm hoping some of the good memories we make now, will show Harry that he deserved much more than just being a pawn in the game of war. That he has so much to keep living for. That he didn't need to just accept death like that …"

"I know, Paddy, I know. I suppose we all wish we could have a different childhood, one way or the other."

Another shuffle. "You wouldn't know you'd get bitten."

"True," Remus murmured. "It's a part of me now, for better or for worse. Tonks was able to see past it, just like you and James were able to."

There was a latch in his voice that Draco hadn't heard before. It made his heart clench in his chest.

"Remy, if I'm making this too hard for you –"

"The alternative is to be alone with a baby who looks so much like his mother that sometimes it pains me too much to even look at him, let alone hold him."

There was a heavy silence hanging over the bed.

Potter huffed and fidgeted in his sleep, rolling awkwardly so that a chubby arm or leg nudged against Draco's back. He froze, refusing to feel grateful for the small limb of warmth.

He stayed awake, long after the floating orbs dulled to a deep burning glow, like that of a dying ember, straining his ears to see if Sirius and Remus would talk anymore about the issues that plagued them. At some point Potter starting fussing again, making little mewling noises as he fidgeted in the bed. Sirius grunted and curled the kid closer against him, stroking his hand and pressing kisses to his flushed hands and cheeks.

Draco felt a bead of envy turning over and over inside him, until all the emotions caught up with him and he fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

The following morning Draco was awoken by the sound of strange music coming from downstairs in the kitchen. He huffed and rolled onto his back, taking a moment to trace his fingers down his left forearm and frowning. Had he really tried to bite the mark from his arm? He grimaced at the thought.

Glancing over at the other side of the bed, he was surprised to see that Remus, Sirius and even Teddy had disappeared from the room, leaving only Draco and Harry sound asleep in the king sized bed.

Draco reached instinctively for a wand to cast ' _tempus'_  and felt jilted when his hand closed around air.

"Shit," he grunted, rolling back over.

He almost yelped when something tugged at his shirt.

Glancing down he saw that Potter had edged closer to the only thing providing any warmth in that moment; him. He tried to pry the little hand off of his shirt, but Potter frowned in his sleep and held on tighter.

"You little git, let go!" Draco hissed.

Potter, as always, ignored him.

"Come on, Potter, this isn't funny. Let me go."

Still nothing.

Draco licked his lips feeling tense all over. "H-Harry, please let go."

To his surprise and disappointment, Potter released the hold on his shirt. That didn't stop him from waking up though. He rolled against the pillow, his lanky small limbs looking swamped in the pyjamas that should have fit him. Draco frowned; maybe Remus and Sirius needed to focus more on feeding Potter? He'd always looked half-starved when he returned from his summer holidays.

Were the muggles really to blame for it all?

"Draco?"

He flinched at the voice. It was high-pitched but unmistakably Potter's.

Potter was awake, his sleepy eyes peering up at Draco as though trying to focus properly on him. He kept his voice in a childish stage-whisper when he asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Downstairs," he replied tightly.

"Oh." Green eyes dropped down. "Can I sleep some more?"

"Do what you want."

Draco made a protesting sound when Potter wriggled closer and curled himself against Draco's chest, his arms winding their way around the teen's arm. He burrowed into Draco's pillow and was out like a light before Draco could tell him to bugger off!

Now he was trapped.

What had happened? Why was Potter hugging him? What the hell were Sirius and Remus doing that they weren't coming in to check on them? Glancing towards the window, Draco frowned at how dark it was beyond the curtains. It was probably barely even 6am. Everyone was awake and Potter, whom he'd always assumed was an early riser, was content to curl up against his childhood bully and sleep some more?

The idea was ludicrous!

However, if Weasley could see them now –Draco grinned at the thought. So, Potter liked him now? That was interesting. The Weasley would probably implode with jealousy if he knew how much Potter liked to cuddle.

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Draco?"

The teens head jerked up at the sound of his name being called. He'd been so engrossed in his new potions book that he hadn't heard Remus' approaching footsteps. He relaxed a little, marking his place in the book and straightening up on the sofa in the 'study'. He hadn't understood why it was called a 'study' and not an 'office' since that's what the room clearly was, but he didn't want to show how ignorant he was of all things muggle.

"Yes?"

"Would you be okay to watch Harry for a little while?"

He blanched and tensed instantly as the thought. Potter had last been seen colouring nonsense pictures at the kitchen table while Remus had fed his own spawn mushed carrots.

"Why?"

"I want Andromeda to take Teddy for the evening to get him settled since I'm on rota for tomorrow. I thought it'd be easier to go now rather than wake him up later."

"Okay. When will you be back?"

"In an hour or two. If you like, you can start getting dinner ready?"

Draco knew the man was teasing, but he still felt himself bristle. "No, thank you. I think we can wait until you get back."

Remus smirked at him before inclining his head. "Very well, you can help me when I do."

Draco didn't bother to reply. Instead, he turned his attention back to his book, making it clear to Remus that he wanted to be left alone. He felt tense and flustered as the werewolf lingered in the doorway for a moment, his left arm prickling with the scrutiny. Finally, Remus made his way back downstairs, humming to himself.

Sometime later, there was the distant sound of the floo activating.

Draco let a sigh escape, reclining back on the sofa and crossing his legs as he resumed reading. His peace and quiet didn't last long, however, as Potter decided that was the moment he wanted to bug the living shit out of him.

"Draco!"

The blonde flinched, but didn't look away from his book.

"Draco! Do you want to play with me?"

"No."

"Please? Only a little one?"

"I said 'no' snot-face." Since he couldn't swear in front of Potter, he needed to put a little bit more thought into the insults he came up with.

Two large green eyes peered up over the top of his book. If he twitched his leg just a little, he could knock Potter aside with his knee. He bit back a sigh and raised his eyes to Potter's.

"What game?"

"You pick!"

Draco felt a muscle tic. "How about one where I don't have to look at your face?"

Potter screwed his little face up in concentration. The idea went off like a 'lumos' on his face. "How about hide and seek? I'm really good at that one! Dudley never finds me."

Just like that, the light went out.

Draco frowned at the sudden silence.

In a small voice Potter whispered, "Dudley isn't going to play with me, is he?"

Frowning even deeper, Draco said, "No, Dudley won't be here. Do you not like playing with him?"

"No," Potter shook his head, hands twisting together and his eyes darting everywhere but at Draco. "He likes to sit on me."

Something stabbed at Draco's heart. Potter looked twitchy, his eyes had a lost, far-off look that children shouldn't have. His insides twisted up even more and before he knew it, he'd set his book aside and leaned over on the sofa so that he was almost eye-level with Potter.

"Okay," he conceded. "I'll count, you go and hide somewhere."

Potter beamed up at him. "Okay! You have to count to one hundred. That's the rules!"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I know the rules, brat. Now go and hide."

Potter spun in a circle and hurried out the door. Draco counted loudly and got all the way up to thirteen before he got distracted by his book again. He had every intention of going to look for Potter. As soon as he got to one hundred.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Remus returned to Grimmauld place that evening, it was to find Draco at the kitchen table with a glass of pumpkin juice and a half-eaten tart on the table in front of him. His pointed nose was almost buried in the potions book he was reading and Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Harry?"

Draco jumped in his seat, spinning around to glare at Remus. "Knock for Merlin's sake!" he snapped.

Remus smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "I see you've kept yourself entertained," he commented drily. "Now would you like to tell me where my child's infant godfather is?"

Draco frowned, "You made Potter your kids' godfather?" Remus nodded. "Well, good luck with that."

Rolling his eyes, Remus flicked his wand at the kettle on the hob. The fire sparked up instantly. He walked around to snag a few biscuits from the tin on the counter and turned to repeat his question to Draco, when he spotted a little figure crouched under the kitchen table. Harry raised a finger to his lips and let a soft 'shh' float into the air. Remus bit back a smile and returned his gaze to the blonde teen. Either he was completely aware that Harry was right at his feet and was skilled at keeping emotions off his face, or he was about to get the fright of his life.

"Is Sirius back yet?"

"No, but he did say he might not be back before seven."

Remus hummed to himself and began flicking his wand at pots and pans, and a string of utensils from the drawers. "Better make ourselves useful then and get dinner started."

Draco rolled his eyes but got up regardless. As he was passing by the table, Harry sprung up and yelled "BOO!"

"Ah! You scared me, Potter!" Draco exclaimed in mock-despair, even going as far as to 'swoon'. "You gave me a heart attack."

Harry bounced and laughed. "That serves you right for not finding me!"

Remus tried to control his laughter, but it was so damned difficult, watching Draco smile wryly at his school nemesis. Grabbing Harry under his arms, Remus hoisted him up and rested him on his hip. "Alright young man, Paddy will be home soon. We're going to make dinner, so why don't you get cleaned up and put your jammies on?"

Harry nodded eagerly. Remus set him down and watched as he scurried out of the kitchen on clumsy legs chanting, "Daddy's coming home! Daddy's coming home!"

Remus felt a shameful flush creep up the back of his neck.

"You know that's going to be a problem in a few months' time, right?" Draco broke through the heavy silence.

"We'll deal with that when we come to it," he sighed. "For now let's focus on making Bolognese."

Draco grabbed a knife and resigned himself to chopping onions. He tried to think of it as prepping for potions. It made the task a little easier to stomach.

"So, did you really not find him?"

Draco shrugged, chopping away. "I got distracted the first time and he came and told me off after twenty minutes. After that, he insisted I hid first," Draco rolled his eyes. "I didn't even really hide, I just sort of stood behind the bookcase a little."

Remus chuckled. "What about just now?"

"I saw him under the table as soon as I walked in. Thought I'd let him have his fun."

The older man hummed thoughtfully as he let the water boil in the saucepan. "Did you ever think that, after the war, you'd be playing hide-and-seek with Harry?"

The way Draco's shoulders tensed was enough to make Remus go on the defensive. However, Draco merely let out a strained, "No," before continuing to chop up the onions. They continued to work in relative silence until the roar of the floo resounded from the fireplace.

Sirius was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this update, please R&R!


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to save any questions: Harry ages one year per month. September = 3 year old Harry.

** Chapter Thirteen **

 

 

 

 

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Draco tore his gaze away from the window and raised a questioning eyebrow at Dr. Lisa. "Do you think tea is going to help me, here?"

He felt sick at what she'd just witnessed. She had encourage him to let her visit some of his most recent memories in a pensive, so she could gain a better understanding of his mental state. He had been resistant, at first, however it was either showing her what was going on in his life, or having to talk about it.

He refused to talk.

So he flinched as she pressed the tip of her wand to his temple and he watched in mute horror as a long, silvery thread wrapped around the wand and then floated down into the pensive. He'd dug his nails into his thighs as he watched her bow over the pensive and press her face into the surface. It didn't take long, perhaps about fifteen minutes, before she resurfaced. Her features were a little paler, a little more pinched than before, but she kept her voice on the same, neutral level as always.

This unnerved him.

Now she was offering  _tea_?

She smiled that warm, natural smile that made his insides recoil. "I find that there's not much that can't be cured with a good cup of tea."

"Fine," he bit out. "Two sugars."

Dr. Lisa didn't admonish him for not saying 'please' as mother would have. He was grateful for that. He absently picked at the cloth of the armchair to keep his hands occupied until the mug was handed to him. She took her seat across from him resting her own mug on her knees. "So tell me how the last week has been for you?"

"Stressful. Lupin and Black are rotating work; when one's at the castle, the other's mostly confined to the office. It means I have to help them cook dinner most nights."

"How're you finding the cooking?"

He shrugged. "Easy, I suppose. It's almost like potions."

"Except you like to digest the end result," Dr. Lisa grinned. "How are you coping with Harry?"

Draco tensed, his eyes staring down at his mug. Dr. Lisa had been bound to secrecy about Potter's special circumstances. If she tried to communicate it with anyone other than Sirius, Remus, or Minerva, her voice simply wouldn't work. A little extreme, but you couldn't be too careful in this day and age.

He took a sip of his tea to calm himself.

"It's trying. He can talk now, which means he never shuts up. Always hounding me to play with him."

"What happens when you don't?"

"He clams up, goes quiet, and brings up one of his muggle relatives. Or just stares off into space."

Dr. Lisa hummed. "Has being around such erratic change brought up any issues for you?"

He felt cold all over. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"Like nightmares, for example. Or hallucinations. All these can be common with PTSD."

He frowned down at his lap. "Is that what I have?" he mumbled, more to himself. He was too tired to argue with her today. How could four little letters sum up the magnitude of what he, and others, had been through over the last year? It seemed absurd. She hadn't mentioned it in any of their previous sessions, so why was she digging deeper now? Perhaps she'd smelled his weakness and finally pounced? Ugh, he really couldn't deal with this today.

"It's likely a part of it, yes."

He gulped down more tea, letting the shivers run through his body. "I've had one or two nightmares, yes."

"Have you been seeing things that aren't there?"

_He could still remember the sting as his teeth broke his skin, how the blood lingered on his tongue for the rest of the night …_

"Not that I can remember, no."

"Then again, I suppose even if you did, you wouldn't tell me, right?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Damn her.

She smiled patiently and drunk from her own mug. It was unnerving how at ease she felt in her office. "Are you nervous about returning to Hogwarts tomorrow?" she asked, the sudden turn of conversation having the desired effect.

Draco stuttered a little, his brain going into overdrive to catch-up with what was being said. "Of course I am! It doesn't take a genius to work that out!"

"Who is going to be escorting you?"

"Lupin is on rota for the day and an Auror, Buxley."

"How long will you be at the school for?"

"Not longer than an hour," he stated stiffly. "I want to get in and out as fast as I can. No use looking for trouble."

"People will no doubt cause a problem for you," Dr. Lisa surmised.

"I'm aware."

"How do you plan to combat that?"

He glared up at her. "I  _can't_  combat that. I'm a walking target. Not to mention, I doubt Buxley would care if someone threw a stinging hex my way. He's probably claim he never saw it happen!"

"What about Harry's friends? Couldn't they help you?"

Draco snorted, draining the last of his tea just to have something to do. "Weasley and Granger are tolerating my right to breathe as long as I'm living under Sirius' roof. That's all. For all I know, Weasley will be punching me in the nose as soon as there's no eyes on me."

Dr. Lisa frowned across at him. "You really don't believe anyone is on your side, do you?"

"Why would I? I'm perfectly aware of the gigantic cock-up I've made of myself. The least I owe to myself is get a decent enough education and get the hell out of here."

"Where do you plan to go?"

He shrugged stiffly. "I don't know. Somewhere secluded. Away from all the horror I've caused." He swallowed, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. He rubbed his lips together in thought. "I don't … I don't belong around people. I don't deserve to be near anyone."

Dr. Lisa didn't say anything, she simply waited for him to continue.

"I bring bad luck and do bad things to those around me. Keeping myself away from society is the best thing for everyone."

"Draco, you've been giving a chance to redeem yourself –"

"I didn't want it," he said. "I never asked for a second chance. Sure, Azkaban terrifies me, it terrifies everyone who even  _hears_  the name. But I  _know_  I'm not a good person. I'm like poison."

"Draco, you need to allow yourself to open up to those around you. You've kept everyone at arms length but this isn't a healthy way to live. You need to embrace what options you have now and make the best of all you've been given. It's rare people get such an opportunity, but it all starts with letting people help."

"Help?" he scoffed before meeting her eyes for the first time in forty minutes. "Who the fuck is going to help me now?"

 

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Remus' office was a strange mix of skulls in jars, a large fish tank with a grindylow inside and an enclosure that didn't seem to hold anything in it at all, and all the ridiculous crap Sirius owned in regards to graphic illustrations of wand movements, an autographed photo of some Quidditch team from the sixties, a bookcase with strange, glowing bottles and framed photos from the Daily Prophet of the convicted Death Eaters. Draco was relieved not to see his own parents up there.

There were two desks sitting facing one another and there was no doubt which one belonged to which professor; Remus' was neat and meticulous, everything straight and organised properly, books in a tidy pile and scrolls rolled up and tied with ribbon set to one side, whereas Sirius' desk had ink spots on the blotter, muggle post-it notes stuck on his ink well and sand-timer, as well as a stack of books that looks as though he'd tossed them onto the desk from a fair distance.

Brushing soot from his casual robes, Draco smoothed his hair down and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Remus ruffled his own hair and with a flick of his wand, swapped his travelling cloak for his work robes.

"How're you feeling?" he asked as he straightening himself up and regarded Draco with a concerned look.

The teen gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter. "Fine," he said stiffly, grey eyes flitting around the room again. "I just want to get this over and done with."

Remus pursed his lips and nodded. "I have lessons for most of the day. If you want to hang around until lunch time, I'll be here."

Draco clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I really don't plan to stay longer than necessary. Besides, someone needs to check-in on Sirius. I don't think ex-prisoner and saviour of the wizarding world turned toddler are a great combination for baking cakes."

Remus smiled. Draco was witty, even if it was mostly sarcasm at the moment. It was just a shame he kept himself closed-off. "Okay," he relented. "If you're still about at lunch, I'll come and find you. If not, I'll see you at dinner tonight."

Draco bowed his head. "Thanks."

 

 

 

 

He made his way out of the DADA room before the bell for first period chimed. The corridors were mostly deserted, most of the student body being in the Great Hall for breakfast, or just getting out of bed to hurry to class. He just hoped that he could make it to the dungeons before the first period of the day began.

Stepping down into the damp, dark classroom brought a wave of memories crashing into him. He staggered against the doorframe for a moment, his head swimming and his breathing a little too fast. The stone wall was cool and moist under his palm. He focused on that, letting a chill creep over his body until he was able to force himself upright.

Letting out a low sigh, he straightened himself up as much as possible and gingerly knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Draco closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and pushed his way into the classroom.

It was empty. Good. That was a good start.

Professor Slughorn looked up from where he was preparing notes on his desk. His wide face frowned at being disturbed and then recognition alighted in those watery blue eyes. "Ah Mr. Malfoy," his voice wavered. He tilted his head back, regarding Draco almost wearily. "Is that time already?"

Draco gripped his bag tighter. "I just thought I'd hand my assignments in before classes got underway. No use distracting the students."

Extending a hand, the rotund man took the sheaf of parchments from Draco. He unrolled them and became absorbed in Draco's practically perfect essay. They may not have liked nor agreed with one another on a number of things, but Draco knew that his knowledge on potions could surpass any of the students combined. It was the one thing he was still proud of, to some degree. He watched as Slughorn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He took a small burst of adrenaline from watching it happen, but refused to let it show on his face.

"I see isolation doesn't hinder you in regards to potions, Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn said as neutrally as possible. "Perhaps after Christmas we can discuss actual potion making?"

Draco frowned, "After one essay?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still not all that fond of you dear boy," he said. "However, I recognise talent when I see it. Talent cannot go un-mastered … We've all seen what happens in that regard."

A dark cloud passed over his face.

"Still, keep up the work to this same level, and we shall discuss practical potion making in the near future."

Draco stared at the shorter man dumbly. Had he really just heard him right? Not wanting to push his luck and question anything going his way, Draco swallowed and inclined his head, "Very well, sir. I'll see what I can do."

Straining to control himself he turned on his heel and left the dungeons.

 

 

 

 

 

Within the hour, Draco had almost finished handing in his assignments when he felt something snag hard on his casual robes. The clasp choked him as his back slammed into the brick wall. Gasping for air, he tried to resist sagging into a heap on the floor as several shadows blocked out the sunlight streaming in from above.

"What're you doing here Malfoy?" an unfamiliar voice sneered. "Shouldn't you be rotting away in Azkaban like your dad?"

_Dad, eh? Not purebloods then._

Glaring up at his assailants, he just about made out two Gryffindor badges and a Ravenclaw one. The others were too far behind the gang-leaders to make out.

"Clearly not," he drawled, bracing himself to stand. "You're not exactly smart are you?"

"You calling us thick?" sneered the tallest boy, a Gryffindor. He still only reached Draco's nose.

"You must be," Draco said in a bored tone. His hand was tremoring but the long sleeves of his robes hid it. "If I'm as dangerous as you claim me to be, then why do you think attacking and  _provoking_  me, is a good idea?"

He levelled his glare at the younger teen.

Several hands moved. Draco felt a muscle tic in his jaw. Reaching for their wands to attack an unarmed wizard? How cowardly.

"What's this then?"

All heads whipped around to spy Hermione Granger and Ron Wealsey glaring at the proceedings, their own wands in hand. Draco felt a mixture of relief, humiliation and disgust at their prompt arrival. No one answered.

"I said, what's going on?" Granger snapped, her voice hardening.

Still, no one answered.

"Fine, if no one's going to answer me; Aldridge, McTaff, Lin, fifty points from Gryffindor each."

"Are you taking the mick?!"

Weasley glared at the others, "As for you, Tinley, Mullocks and Jasper, that's fifty points from Ravenclaw each. All six of you will have a months worth of detention and be banned from any extracurricular activities until the end of November."

"You can't do that!" one of the Ravenclaw's cried out. "It's the quarter finals!"

"I just did," Ron stated, his voice low and menacing.

Draco was impressed; Weasley had never appeared that menacing before.

"Back to your classes now. I shall be informing the headmistress of this," Granger snapped, her voice cracking through the air like a whip.

No one dared to argue with her.

Once the gang was out of sight and earshot, Granger turned to Draco, concern on her face as he avoided eye-contact by straightening himself down. His hands were shaking and he felt sick. "They didn't hurt you did they Draco?"

"No," he bit out. "You got here just in time." His voice sounded a lot harsher than he intended. He winced at it and sighed. "Thanks."

The pair shared a look. "We were actually wondering if we might be able to come and see Harry on Saturday?" Granger asked, "If you're free, that is. We wouldn't want to disrupt any plans."

Draco shrugged. "I'm house-bound, so obviously I have no plans. Although Sirius hasn't mentioned doing anything. I'll get him to owl or floo or something."

Granger gave him a hopeful smile, "That would be great." She hesitated, the tension between them still thick like treacle. "Uh … would you like us to bring anything?"

Draco clenched his jaw, trying his best to remain calm. All he wanted to do was lock himself in the bathroom and claw at his skin until he could no longer feel those boys' shadows on him, but he couldn't. Not yet.

"No, I'll sure any assignments will get owled to me." Before they could ask anything else he said, "Sorry, I have to get back. Sirius was making lunch."

He turned on his heel and hurried back to Remus' office.

 

 

 

 

 

Stumbling through into the lounge, Draco shredded off his robes and threw it onto the sofa along with his messenger bag. He staggered up the stairs, grappling blindly at the banister and finally managed to make it to his room. He slammed the door shut and dove for his bed, tugging at his hair as the tears ran down his face. He pressed his hands over his mouth and screamed behind clenched teeth.

He hated feeling so weak and emotional.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be! He wasn't supposed to be living with his cousin and learning how to live without magic. He didn't know what the outcome would have been, alternatively, but it wasn't meant to be this!

He choked on his screams and cried until he'd exhausted himself.

Was it even worth carrying on?

 

 

 

 

 

When Remus returned to Grimmauld place that night it was to see a perturbed looking Sirius at the kitchen table, stirring a mug of black coffee with a spoon. Plumes of steam rose from the mug but the older man did not take a sip. Frowning, Remus stepped down into the kitchen and placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, startling him.

"Oh, hey Remmy. I didn't hear you come in."

Remus wanted to say how he doubted that, but the look on Sirius' face stopped him. "What's wrong Paddy?"

Heaving a sigh, the man said, "Draco was attacked at school today."

"What?" Remus snapped. "He was only there for an hour or so. He didn't even join me for lunch. I got worried but didn't want him to feel like he was being pressured."

Sirius gave a grim smile. "I feel like we go too far one way and then the other."

Remus nodded in agreement. Pulling out a chair, he sat himself down. "So what happened?"

"I flooed with Minerva earlier. Six boys ambushed Draco during the second period of the day and were about the draw their wands on him. Hermione and Ron managed to intervene. Suffice to say Quidditch is off the table until after Christmas for these boys, as well as a strongly worded letter home to their parents."

"Is that really enough?"

"What else can we do? Draco wasn't physically harmed so … it's all that can be done for now."

"Next time, we'll demand one of the aurors comes and stays the entire time, even if it is only for an hour."

"Agreed."

Raking a hand through his hair Remus asked, "Where's Draco now?"

"When I left him, he was being attended to by Dr. Scarhead."

The name took Remus by surprise. "Dr. What?"

Sirius chuckled, although his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Harry saw that Draco had slept all day, hadn't eaten and complained of a headache. He insisted on helping."

Remus laughed. "Oh, dear that poor boy."

"Harry's not bothered by Draco's mood swings."

"I was talking about Draco. Harry can be incredibly bossy, especially these days."

Sirius grinned. "I figured they could bond a little more."

"What about Teddy?"

"Andromeda dropped him off about 6PM. He's been fed, changed and is waiting for a goodnight kiss from his daddy."

Remus felt a warm flush creep up the back of his neck. He ducked his chin slightly to hide his face. "You're dreadful," he murmured, more to himself that Sirius.

A hand reached out across the table and gripped his own.

"Remus."

He fought the urge to look into Sirius' eyes, and lost the battle. "Yes?" he murmured.

Those wide, grey eyes were awash with emotion. So many, infact, that Remus couldn't make heads or tails of them. "You'll stay with me, right?"

"I can't very well leave you with this lot, now, can I?" he chuckled.

Sirius didn't laugh. "I don't want to lose you."

"Sirius … Tonks has only been gone for three months."

The curly-haired man bowed his head. "I'd never want to replace her."

"You each have a place in my heart. It's only ever been you and her. Right now, I need to grieve. That's something I am never going to get back, Sirius, and I need to grieve for her." He squeezed Sirius' hand, his insides squirming. "I can't give myself to you in any way, not while I'm not whole and still broken."

Sirius nodded. He understood. "I can wait for as long as it takes, Remmy."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I know." A squeeze. "Just know that you'll always have a home here. You and Teddy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry. Not for this."

Remus blinked away the tears he felt brewing behind his eyes. He inhaled deeply and squeezed Sirius' hand one last time before letting go. "Have you had anything to eat?"

Sirius' eyes glazed a little at the change in topic. "No, I didn't feel hungry when I got in. I made the boys' something, though."

"I'll make us some pasta and then we can go and relax okay?"

"I'll go up and check on Draco and Harry."

Remus smiled, before turning to the pots and pans in the kitchen and distracted himself cooking. Sirius watched him for a while, his gaze causing the hairs on the lycan's neck to stand up on end. Eventually, he drained his cold coffee and stood up from the kitchen table. It was only when his footsteps receded up the staircase, that Remus left out the breath he'd been holding and tried not to cut his quaking hand with the knife as he began chopping garlic.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Saturday dawned warm and sunny. The temperature was dialling down a little, meaning that Draco didn't feel the urge to have an ice cold shower every hour. He'd taken his time getting out of bed, his head still reeling from the previous day's ordeal. He wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with Granger and Weasley, but Sirius had agreed they could come over, so it was a done deal.

Remus had gotten up around the same time as Draco. They'd had an early breakfast together, reading the paper and the letters brought by the owls. It was nearly 10am by the time Sirius stumbled down into the kitchen in a pair of muggle jeans and a loose hanging t-shirt. His jeans hung a little too low on his hips and the collar of the shirt exposed the curls of black chest hair. Remus ducked his head a little too fast, or was Draco imagining it?

Attached to Sirius' chest was Potter, dressed in a pair of baggy blue shorts and a green t-shirt.

_Green really does bring out his eyes._

Draco froze at the thought.

He clenched his jaw and focused on the gossip articles Rita Skeeter had written, his pulse thrumming loudly in his ears.

"What time are Ron and Hermione meant to be arriving?" Sirius asked as he settled Potter into his high chair.

"Midday I think," Remus replied. "Have you explained to Harry what's happening today?"

"Yes, as simply as possible."

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. Watch; Harry, who's coming over today?"

"My friends."

"And which friends are those?"

"Minnie and Ron."

"And you remember about them being older?"

"Yes, they're older because –because I had an accident. So I'm a baby and they're bigger."

Draco pressed his lips together. _This wasn't funny! This wasn't funny!_

"Now Harry," Remus took the toddlers attention, "Do you remember your manners?"

Potter twisted his face a little, his wide green eyes darting from one face to the other. "No …"

"What do we say when we want something that someone else has?"

"Please?"

"That's right, kiddo," Sirius ruffled his hair. "And what do we say when someone gives us something."

"Thank you!"

"See, the kids a genius!" Sirius beamed proudly.

Draco snorted as he drank his tea. "No wonder he's got such a big head when he's older."

Remus chuckled. "That had nothing to do with either of us."

"Well, if we get another Dark Lord, I'll be sure to defeat him by asking if he could _please_  bugger off elsewhere and  _thank you_  for being such a sore loser."

The two men shared a laugh but Sirius sobered up quickly. "While we're on the topic, lets' try and keep war-talk out of the conversation. I don't want Harry's nightmares to start up again."

Draco nodded. "Don't worry, I don't plan on being around."

"Oh, Draco don't shut yourself away!" Remus protested. "You've not hung around with anyone your age for months. Just try and enjoy the company."

"I think I'd rather eat Grindylow testicles, thanks."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. Potter laughed and clapped his hands.

Draco took his plate and mug to the sink and quickly washed it in the soapy water before setting it on the drying rack. He was almost positive that half the muggle things in the house had been accumulated just before he'd turned up on the doorstep, his magic bound.

"I think I'm going to study in my room for a while," he said, heading for the kitchen door.

"We'll call you down when the others arrive," Sirius called after him.

Draco didn't bother to reply.

 

 

 

 

 

When Granger and Weasley finally did arrive, Draco was too hungry to bother ignoring them as he was called down for lunch. They were eating outside on the patio. He headed straight for the kitchen, intent on helping Remus and Sirius carry out the dishes of food. Potter was toddling around with a stuffed owl tucked under his arm. Sirius had bought it for him on their last excursion into Muggle London. Yet again, Draco had been coerced to tag along. That meant he had to help keep an eye on the rugrat whilst Sirius made sure both Potter and Teddy were comfortable. Somehow they'd wandered into a toy store and come out with the white and grey plushie owl.

Now Potter carried it around with him everywhere.

Teddy was perched in his highchair at the outside table, banging his spoon cheerfully on his little table. He grinned and gabbled and made a grab for Potter's mop of hair as he passed. Whenever he managed to touch it, if only a little, he'd let out a squeal of excitement, clap his hands and his hair would flash bubblegum pink.

Potter seemed to be in a pensive mood, if toddlers could be such a thing. He kept shooting glances up at Granger and Weasley, as though trying to predict what their next move would be.

"That's a lovely little owl you have there, Harry," Granger broke the silence, her voice sweet and crooning.

Potter seemed to hesitate, glancing down at the owl in his hands. "She's my friend."

"Does she have a name?" Weasley asked, leaning down so that he was more eye-level with Potter.

The toddlers little face scrunched up in thought. "Her name –Her name is Hootie!"

The pair exchanged a glance, their mouths suppressing laughter. "That's a lovely name," Granger said. "Do you think you would like a real owl when you grow up?"

"Yes!" Potter beamed. "But I wouldn't call her Hootie, because I already have a Hootie and you can't have two friends with the same name otherwise –otherwise you don't know who they are."

"That's very true."

Draco watched the interactions from the patio doorway. Why was it so easy for those two to get on with Potter? Not that he cared. He half-listened as Potter chatted incessantly about his favourite animals and colours and why all lady-bugs are girls otherwise they would be called 'boy bugs'. Granger chuckled encouragingly and Weasley laughed as Potter continued to babble.

A shriek caused Draco's head to snap up.

Sirius had hoisted Potter up into his arms and was tickling his tummy and under his arms. "That's enough chatting, Mister, otherwise you'll be too tired to eat!"

"Daddy nooo! Daddy –AH!" Potter dissolved into giggles as he squirmed, his face bright pink.

Draco momentarily wondered if Potter was still ticklish –and then punched his thigh out of sight under the table. Who cared if the git was still ticklish? He settled at the table, Remus on his left and Sirius on his right. He felt vaguely protected between them as he added a small amount of food to his plate and begin to eat, keeping his head down at the others conversed.

Draco had to marvel at the way Sirius took to being a dad, compared to how panicked he'd initially been. He clearly doted on Potter, much more than Lucius had outwardly done towards Draco. Whenever Potter wasn't clutching at his owl, his little fist managed to find something of Sirius to cling onto; his shirt, his trouser leg or his hand.

Clearly he wasn't the only one that thought so.

"I have to say Sirius, you're taking this all really well," Granger commented as Potter was returned to earth, his hair messy and cheeks flushed. "I wasn't sure you knew how to handle kids."

Draco bristled. From anyone else that would be seen as an insult. From Granger however …

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, I know I may seem like the reckless madman you lot met five years ago –and in many ways I am." He smoothed his hand over Potter's hair as the toddler chewed at a sandwich. "Harry's always been my chance for a family. I need to do right by him and his parents. I owe them that much." A solemn look entered his grey eyes and Draco couldn't help but frown.

Was he missing something?

Shaking his curls from his eyes, Sirius plastered a grin on his face. "Who wants to play hide and seek after lunch?"

"MEEEEEEEEEE!" Potter squealed, waving his sandwich around.

Sirius took a large chomp of it, causing everyone except Draco to laugh.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Draco cuffed at the sweat bubbling on his forehead as the soapy water sloshed up his forearms. He'd decided to give Remus a break and do the dishes whilst everyone else played hide and seek with Potter. He could hear their laughter even down in the kitchen. Ordinarily he would have sneered at doing such a task clearly designated for house-elves, but this afternoon he wanted to be left alone.

"I never thought I'd see the day where Draco Malfoy was washing the dishes?"

He nearly dropped the plate at Granger's voice behind him. Scowling, he slammed the plate onto the drying rack and threw a glare of his shoulder. "Thought you were meant to be playing hide and seek?" he sneered.

"Got found first," she shrugged with a smile. She was silent for a moment. "How are you? Since those students attacked you?"

"They didn't attack me," he ground out, scrubbing vigorously at another plate.

"Nearly attacked you then," she amended. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he replied tightly. "Guess I need an auror whenever I need to go to piss."

"I'm sorry that any of this is still happening. The war was meant to stop all this."

"Yeah well I don't have the Golden Trio at my beck-and-call to keep me safe."

"Draco –"

"What do you want Granger?" he gritted his teeth, his muscles tensing.

"I just –guess I wanted to let you know that you don't have to go through all this on your own."

"I don't need your pity, Granger."

"It's not pity!" she said in an exasperated manner. "It's an olive branch!"

"To what end?"

She didn't respond straight away. "You know I was always on your side?" He didn't reply. "Even in sixth year when, in hindsight, you _were_ up to something, I defended you against the other two! I could see through the façade and see how it was tearing you up inside."

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and spin around, his back pressing back against the sink.

Granger withdrew her hand, her eyes wide with fear at what he might do next. He could slap her, pay her back for the punch he got in third year, but he was frozen. She was so close he could see the faint freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"If we're going to be seeing one another more, I think we need to try and be civil with one another."

"I have been civil," he glowered.

Granger chuckled and shook her head. "I mean more civil," she smiled. "Come and play with Harry. Sit and talk with Remus. Play Ron at chess! Anything other than cooping up in here and washing the plates."

Draco felt a muscle tic in his jaw.

Granger seemed to give up waiting for an answer. She let out a soft sigh and combed her curls out of her face. "Well you know where we are if you change your mind." She turned on her heel and made her way out of the kitchen.

Draco listened to her footsteps retreating towards the back door.

He let out a shuddering breath and glanced down at the dishtowel clenched in his hands. He couldn't deny how mind-numbing it was, however he wasn't sold on the idea of going back into the sunshine and watching everyone frolic about with Potter while he screamed his stupid head off.

Heaving a sigh, he tossed the towel onto the kitchen table and trudged back out into the garden. He didn't join in with the game of tag, but he did settle into the chair beside Teddy and let the baby grip his forefinger. He watched Granger and Weasley playfully dodging Potter as he charged for them whilst kicking a ball. Remus and Sirius cheered him on as he hurried on his little legs.

Potter kicked the ball past the tree. Everyone cheered, waving their arms in the air. Potter bounced around, clapping to himself as Remus ruffled his hair.

Draco couldn't deny that Potter was sort of not-ugly-looking as a child. He'd never looked as happy as a teenager, not that Draco had ever seen. Maybe during Quidditch but that was more adrenaline than anything else.

"Draco!"

His heart squeezed at the sound of Potter calling his name.

The bright-eyed brat was grinning at him and waving for him to come over. Everyone else was looking at him, waiting to see what he would do. Draco didn't have the heart to piss anyone else off today, he was far too drained for that. Standing up, he made sure that Teddy was secured in his high chair before stepping down from the patio and onto the soft grass.

Potter toddled up to him and grabbed for his hand with his clumsy fingers. Draco swallowed a sigh and pulled his hand from his pocket and let Potter take hold of it. He was tugged further onto the makeshift pitch where the black-and-white ball was resting.

"Draco you have to kick it with me and –and –and not let them get it away!"

Draco glanced at the others for guidance, but they merely grinned back at him.

"So, I'm on your team am I?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Potter grinned. "You and me against everyone!"

Another squeeze in his chest.

"Alright scarhead," he tried to smile. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave lovely reviews! I adore reading them!


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to health issues and a lack of laptop for most of the last month, I apologise for the delay in updates, however I HAVE most of that under control now (at the very least I have a new laptop) so I promise to update quicker.
> 
> As for now ... MERRY CHRISTMAS! I HOPE EVERYONE HAS / HAD A WONDERFUL DAY! Enjoy the new update!

** Chapter Fourteen **

 

Remus swept his hair from his eyes and groaned down at the paperwork before him. Once upon a time, he'd be able to mark a student's paper blindfolded, but now it was feeling more like a chore. He didn't like doing it alone, preferring to do it with Sirius so that the other man could loudly critique something, from the student's handwriting, to their sheer lack of knowledge on the subject or even their  _name_.

Not that he'd ever do it during lessons, but it did make it awkward when Remus had to call on said student, and Sirius' taunts rang in his ear.

Still, marking homework during his free period before lunch was never something he was going to enjoy.

As if by some miracle, his floo flared green, indicating an incoming call. Setting his quill aside, he went over to the fireplace and grinned to see Sirius' head bobbing there. "You can't be in trouble yet, I've only been gone a few hours."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I was just wondering what your plans were for the full moon this month? Are the boys staying here or do you think it'd be better to ask Andromeda to watch them for the weekend?"

Remus' shoulders slumped. "Can we not talk about this later?"

"Of course! I just saw it marked on the calendar and thought I'd ask before I forget."

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "And ...?"

"And Draco asked and I wasn't sure what to tell him."

Ah, there it was.

"Is he afraid of me or something?"

"No, I just think he doesn't know how we managed in the past and doesn't know what to expect now." He paused, pensively. "I can only imagine many a run-in with Greyback didn't help."

Remus shook his head, repressing a shudder. Was Draco afraid of him or was he just reading too much into it? Either way, it twisted his stomach. "Do you think I should go up and talk to him?"

Sirius shrugged, "You can try, but he's with Harry at the moment."

Remus' eyebrows shot up. "What? When did that happen?"

"About .. oh, an hour ago? I gave Harry his dinner and then he insisted it was Draco's turn to read him a story."

Grinning, Remus headed for the door. "Come on, I want to see this!"

Sirius chuckled and followed. Casting a muffling charm on the stairs, they went up to the second floor and crept along the corridor, almost like they were teenagers in Hogwarts again. The door eased open; inside Harry was sitting up against his pillows, his eyes wide open as he watched Draco intently. Said blonde was perched in the rocking chair Sirius usually sat in, one leg cocked over the other, a large book open in his lap. His gaze was focused on the page before him, but every so often at Harry's exclamation, his mouth twitched into an almost-smile.

It was the smallest movement, but it was a stark difference to when Draco had first came to them.

Remus turned away from the door, and motioned for Sirius to head back downstairs.

"I'm amazed," he admitted, flicking his wand at the kettle and setting two mugs on the counter. "Draco was really against being here at all."

"I know. He still doesn't talk about it all, though."

Remus frowned, "I don't expect he'll want to."

"It'd be for his own good," Sirius stressed.

"I'm aware, Paddy, but how often were you emotional at his age? Not a whole lot, if I remember rightly."

Sirius pulled a face.

"Besides, you should be enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasts," he continued. "Before long, Harry's going to remember certain things and that's going to be a minefield all on its own."

Raking a hand through his curls, Sirius nodded. "I know. It's been killing me. I just ... I don't know what I'm going to say to him."

Remus placed a hand on his friends shoulder, wanting to smooth out the fine lines around his eyes. "We'll think of something when the time comes. Just let him be a kid for once. He didn't get it before."

Somewhere above them, they heard a door close, floorboards creaking, and then another door open and close. Draco had gone to his own room.

"I'll pop in on him in about an hour, see if he's settled."

 

 

 

 

 

At 8 o'clock Sirius eased the door open and peaked into Harry's room. The soft glowing lights shone in the shape of stars and moons across his ceiling. It was calming to look at and Sirius hoped it gave Harry some comfort if he ever woke up in the middle of the night. The small bed was situated across from the window so that the toddler didn't catch a chill when winter came. The curtains were drawn and the fire in the grate was crackling happily behind a barrier charm.

Harry was lying sprawled in his bed, like a starfish, his mop of black hair sticking up in all directions. He was sleeping, his chest rising slowly. His blue and red pyjamas depicting "Spiderman" were cute and quickly getting too small for him. One of the things Sirius was glad he could do for his godson, was to feed him three proper meals a day. None of this 'begging for scraps' shite like those muggles had forced upon him.

Harry huffed and shifted over in bed, curling up into the pillow, Hootie tucked snuggly against his chest.

He was just so cute.

Unable to stop himself, Sirius ran his fingers through Harry's hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I wish you didn't have to grow up so fast," he murmured, resting his forehead against the toddler's.

Leaving the room, he pulled the door to and retreated back to his own room. Remus was there, bathed in the glow of the floating orbs as he rocked a sniveling Teddy against his chest. The baby's hair was flashing between red and blue and his face was flushed an ugly pink were he was quietly crying.

"Hey now, what's this?" Sirius asked, casting a  _Muffliato_  charm at the door.

Remus shook his head, bouncing with every step as he tried to calm his son. "I'm not sure, he just seems upset."

"Have you checked him for everything?"

"Of course I have," Remus ground out through clenched teeth.

Sirius came up behind his friend and rested a firm hand on his shoulder, "Hey now, don't snap at me."

"Sorry. Maybe he can smell wolf."

Sirius frowned, "Is that possible?"

"I've no clue, Sirius!" Remus hissed. "All I know is that my son is crying his lungs out and I can't calm him down!"

"Give him here." Remus stopped, his eyes flashing gold in the soft light. At Sirius' insistence, he handed over his son. Settling Teddy against his chest, Sirius glanced at his friend, "Now lie down on the bed and take off your shirt."

Hesitantly, Remus did as he was told, tugging his t-shirt off over his head. Sitting propped up on the bed, he watched with a confused frown, as the curly-haired man laid Teddy on the end of the bed, his thrashing, chubby limbs being freed from his onesie. Finally, in just his diaper, Teddy was lifted ever-so-gently from the blanket and gently eased down onto Remus' chest. Teddy wriggled and choked a little, but after a few moments his breathing calmed down a little and his small hand curled around a wisp of chest hair.

The steady thumping of Remus' heart soothed him.

Startled gold eyes looked up at Sirius, "How did you know to do that?"

Sirius shrugged with a small self-satisfied smirk on his lips. "It worked with Harry a few times in July."

Remus gently rubbed circles across Teddy's back. "You make this all so much easier."

"All what?" Sirius asked, unfastening his waistcoat. Since the weather was getting a little cooler, his wizarding attire was more comfortable to wear.

"Being a single dad," Remus sighed, his eyes staring off into the distance. "I never thought this would happen, being a dad, let alone having to go it alone."

Perching on the edge of the bed, Sirius rested a hand on Remus' shoulder. "I know, Remmy."

"What would our friends say?"

Sirius snorted lightly. "James would have tried to turn the rugrats into super-spies. Whereas Lily ... Oh Lily ... She would have been everyone's mum."

"Even Draco's?"

"She would have mothered him worse than Molly Weasley."

They lapsed into silence. Teddy snoozed gently. Once Sirius was changed for the night, he lifted Teddy up as carefully as he could, clothed him and settled him down in his cot. With a flick of his wand, the cot started to rock gently from side-to-side. As he climbed into the bed, the floating orbs dimmed down. The wind whistled down the chimney and made the hairs on his arms stand up on end.

He was drifting off to sleep when Remus nudged him with his foot.

"Sirius?"

"Mm?"

"Can you do something for me this weekend?"

"Sure. Whassit?"

"Can we look into converting the basement?"

"To what?"

"Into a potion's lab. For Draco."

"Why's we need a lab?"

Remus bit down on his bottom lip. "Sirius ... What do you think about letting Draco brew my wolfsbane potion?"

Cracking his eyelids open, Sirius frowned at the golden-eyed man across from him. Even in the dimmed light, his eyes were more wolf than usual. The moon was right around he corner. They wouldn't have time for Draco to brew a batch this time. However ...

"Do you really trust him to do that for you?" Sirius asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I do. Not to mention, from what I've heard, he's still an impeccable genius when it comes to potion-making."

Sirius grinned through the darkness. "It'll take another month or so to sort the place out but ... dear Merlin, I love that idea!"

Remus Squeezed Sirius' arm across the mattress. "I think it'll be good for him."

"I'll get started first thing tomorrow," Sirius yawned, shifting onto his back. "Then we can set the boy up with something worth his time."

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

"What in Merlin's name are you doing down here?"

Sirius whipped around mid-step, the music warbling through the air as his eyes focused on Draco standing in the doorway to the basement. He was hunched over, wearing a fitted navy blue sweat with a cowl that framed his pointy chin and made him look almost ethereal with how pale he appeared.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to!" Sirius beamed, sending the broom in his hand to sweep wandlessly around the room. "Did you miss me, kiddo?"

Draco frowned at him, his grey eyes sharp and intense. "Why would I do such a stupid thing?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well if you're here to help me clear this dump out, I'm grateful."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "What  _are_  you doing down here?" he repeated, taking the steps down into the cellar.

"We are cleaning."

"We?"

"Draco!"

Spinning around, arms crossed over his chest, Draco came face-to-face with Potter. He was dressed up in the most hideous bright green jumpsuit with a bandanna tied around his head.

"Have you come to help us clean?"

"No. What -of course not! Why would I  _clean_  this place?"

"Well, Daddy says we have to clean our rooms otherwise we don't get ice cream and and and ... Daddy says this is your room so ... that means you got to clean it."

"What?" Draco shot a look at Sirius. "What the hell is he gabbing about?"

"It was going to be a surprise," the older man stated, before directing a look at his godson. "See Harry? You spoiled the surprise."

"No I DIDN'T!" the toddler stamped his foot, his fists clutching at his mini-broomstick. "I said it's his room!"

Sirius sighed before kneeling down to the toddler's height. "Okay," he placated. "But don't say anymore okay?" He pressed a finger to his lips, eyebrows raised in warning.

Potter mirrored his actions before grinning and hurrying off into a corner to start whacking his broom at a cobweb filled with dead doxies.

Sirius chuckled at his antics before Draco rounded on him again. "Care to explain what you're playing at?" he sneered through gritted teeth.

Unphased, Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "Go on. Talk to me like that again and I'll treat you how I treat Harry when he gets into a mood."

Thrown off-guard, Draco asked, "What?"

"Tell him, pup."

"Daddy puts me on the naughty step for a while 'til I say sorry," Potter stated

Draco snorted, "You're hardly going to manage to put me on the naughty step."

Chuckling, Sirius drew himself to his full height. "Please give me a reason, Draco. Give me a reason to try."

The teenager saw the wicked gleam in his cousin's eye, and for the first time in ages felt a pang of dread shoot through him. Curling his lip into a sneer, he huffed and turned away. To his dismay he was left staring at Potter as he crouched down and swept the flagstone floor. He'd only come down for a sandwich and now he was in a stuffy basement with only a small window letting in light from ground level, with Potter and his mad cousin.

"So what is this for?"

"It was Remus' idea," Sirius said, "It's a surprise. So grab a broom and get sweeping."

"I don't want to sweep!"

"It's okay Draco!" Potter chimed. "I can show you how to do it. Daddy showed me two days ago. I'm really good at it, aren't I Daddy?"

"Yes, pup, you're incredible. The best sweeper in the world!"

The beaming smile that Potter shot Sirius' way, was enough to make Draco's heart clench. When was the last time his father had said he'd done a good job? He was jolted out of his thoughts when something tapped at his hands; glancing down he saw Potter with another broom in his hand and was offering it up to Draco.

"Come on Draco! We have to clean!"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Daddy says we get cake if we do good."

His grin was infectious. Draco found himself smiling and he felt a little lighter compared to when he woke up that morning. Grabbing the broom, he listlessly started scraping it across the floor. He felt the weight of Sirius' gaze on the back of his neck, but he ignored it as the floor was cleared of dust, debris and cobwebs. Next up was to wash the walls down as well as the floor; Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a mop and he knew he'd never held one before. While he mopped, Sirius and Potter scrubbed at the walls, several other sponges levitated to mimic their movements across the room as they went.

 

 

It took a good few hours and by the time they were done and had to leave the room to air-dry, Draco had damp patches everywhere and was starving. When he came down to the kitchen after changing, lunch was already on the table and Potter was munching on a sandwich, his chin barely reaching above the table.

"Was wondering where you got to," Sirius said as he set two more plates of sandwiches on the table, sitting across from Draco.

"I had to change into something dry." He picked at his sandwich for a moment. "Where's Lupin? Isn't it meant to be your day teaching?"

"Since it's the full moon later this week, Remus wants to get most of his lessons out of the way."

"You'll be teaching most of next week then?" Draco frowned. "What about Potter?"

"I'm sure you'll all manage just fine. Give it a day or two, Remus will be back on his feet to help."

"So you'll want me to help Potter?"

"I'm sure you can make eggs on toast," Sirius grinned. "Besides, it'll only be for a few days."

Draco pulled a face but didn't say anything else. Potter's wide green eyes darted from one man to the other, before he attacked his sandwich again, grinning around every mouthful.

When lunch was over, Sirius asked if Draco wanted to help finish clearing the basement but he declined. "I'll wash the dishes and go and do some studying," the blonde teen said with a shrug.

Sirius frowned; it would have been so easy for him to  _scourgify_  the dishes but Draco didn't like he was in the mood."Is there something on your mind, Draco?"

"No I'm fine," he replied tightly, rolled the sleeves of his jumper up as the sink filled.

"Do you have a problem with Remus?"

A dish clattered as he tensed. "Why would I have a problem with living in a house with a werewolf?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"He's perfectly safe!" Draco tried to say something, but the words were lodged in his throat. His jaw simply wouldn't unclench and his head was swimming. A chair scraped back and a firm hand rested on his shoulder. The warm, solid pillar of Sirius was leaning close behind him. "You're safe too, Draco," he squeezed, "I wouldn't let anything happen to either of you. You and Harry are safe, as long as you stay inside. I can help take care of Remus."

"What about Teddy?"

"Andromeda will look after Teddy, just like last time." A tremor ran down Draco's spine and coiled in his stomach, like a lead snake. As if sensing his tension, Sirius pulled him another step back and hugged him from behind. "It will be fine Draco, but if you're really uncomfortable with it ..."

"What?"

"Why don't we invite Hermione and Ron over to keep you two company? I'm sure they'd like to see Harry again."

Draco rolled his eyes and shrugged Sirius off of him, "Thanks but I'd rather not suffer through them again. If they want to come and babysit, let them."

Sirius let his hands fall away. "Well," he said, defeated. "Alright then."

Draco focused his attention on washing the dishes. He almost broke a few with how hard he was handling them. At some point Sirius had whisked Potter away and into the cellar. If he stopped scrubbing, he could hear them clattering about in there but wasn't curious enough to go and have a look. He didn't want to look, he didn't care. It took him another hour to finish with the dishes and scrubbing down the counters and table before heading back up to his room.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

 

Friday evening was fast approaching and Draco was getting his bearings after having fallen asleep. Ancient Runes rarely sent him off to sleep. He supposed he was over-doing it a little bit with all the studying, racing to get all his assignments written to the best he possibly could. Getting rid of the kinks in his muscles, he raked his hand through his hair and stretched. It was already 6pm and the sky would be completely dark soon. His insides twisted as he descended the stairs to the living room.

A fire crackled in the grate and Draco stopped short in the doorway at the sight of Hermione and Ron sat on the sofa. They glanced up at him as he entered.

"To what do I owe the displeasure of your company?" he asked, still feeling too tired to inject the right amount of disdain into his words.

The two Gryffindor's shared a look before Hermione said, "We got here a little early. Sirius said he was just giving Harry a bath before he makes his dinner."

"Right," he said. "Well I'll just leave you lot to it."

"You don't need to go, Draco."

Her words made him tense up. It felt wrong to hear his name fall from her mouth. "All the same, you two want to spend time with Potter, whereas I don't."

Weasley, who had been sitting there, tense and quiet, on the sofa let out a long sigh, "I told you, 'Mione. He can't be bothered to slum it with us so leave him to it."

"Ron!" she hissed, shooting him a glare. Returning her gaze to Draco she inclined her head to the sofa opposite. "Come on, Draco. I'm sure Harry would like your company."

He eyed the two of them. "All the same, I'd rather not."

He turned on his heel and walked across the hallway to the kitchen. Remus was nowhere in sight and Sirius was holding a freshly bathed Potter astride his hip. When he saw Draco, he sighed with relief and practically launched the toddler into the blonde's arms. "Sorry, Draco, just hold him for a second, I need to just dish his food up."

Draco grimaced as he attempted to adjust his grip on the toddler, who didn't seem bothered. If anything clung onto Draco's jumper and dropped his head onto the blonde's shoulder. It was totally unnecessary and awkward. What would happen when Potter got older and remembered all of this? That he was clinging onto his school nemesis?

"Where's Remus?"

"He's resting out in the conservatory for now. Don't worry, the house is warded and he can't get through in his wolf-form," Sirius raked a hand through his hair. "Just make sure Harry doesn't go near the windows. Take him through into the living room and I'll bring his dinner."

Draco frowned at the brat in his arms before sighing loudly. "Fine," he ground out, turning on is heel and marching out of the kitchen.

The two Gryffindors' heads snapped up when he barge into the room and plonked Potter down on the sofa opposite them. "There you are, scarhead, time to play with your friends." Looking up at Granger and Weasley he said, "If you need me I'll be upstairs."

"Draco-"

"Oh let him go Hermione," Weasley said. "It's not like we need the ferret hanging around when we want to spent time with Harry."

Granger swiveled around to admonish the redhead but Draco cut across her. "See Granger? You'll be fine."

He turned and made for the door. Hopefully he could escape and hide away before Sirius came in with Potter's dinner.

"NO!"

All three heads turned to see Potter standing up on the sofa, his feet sinking into the plush cushions and his little hands clenched into fists. The air around him crackled, small blue and green sparks running through his hair and around his pyjamas. There seemed to be a rush of air that ruffled his hair and clothing. His eyes gleamed bright green as he glared up at them.

Draco released his grip on the doorknob.

"Okay," he held up his hands to show Potter that he wasn't leaving.

"Harry why don't you let Draco study and we can watch a movie, hmm?" Hermione said in a soft voice, crouching down a little so she was more level with the toddler.

"NO!" he shouted again. "Draco can't go!"

Rolling his eyes, the blonde walked away from the door, "Look, I won't leave. Now settle down so Sirius can come in with your dinner."

The toddler narrowed his eyes but the crackling in the air subsided, placated for now. Sirius chose that moment to open the door and saunter into the room levitating two trays; one with Harry's dinner of chicken nuggets, potatoes and green beans, and the other holding a plate of biscuits, chocolates and popcorn for the others. Sensing the tension in the room, he cocked a dark eyebrow.

"What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Draco replied tightly. "I was just trying to leave. Potter got a little pis -er -peed off with me."

Sirius frowned and levitated the trays to the coffee table. Pulling the footstool closer, he took Potter's hands in his own and tugged him gently until the toddler awkwardly sat down on the edge of his seat. "Now, pup, what's all this I hear about you raising your voice?"

Potter ducked his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Now, Hermione and Ron have come all the way here to see you. Do you think it's nice for them to see you getting angry and shouting?"

More silence. Draco felt a twinge in his chest, almost like he wanted to  _defend_  Potter.

"Now," Sirius continued. "Remus and I are going to be away tonight. Draco and his friends are going to look after you."

Draco scoffed at the same time as Weasley. He glared at the redhead.

"I want you in bed with brushed teeth by seven o'clock, okay mister?"

Potter nodded his head, his bottom lip jutting out.

"Come give me a hug before I go."

Potter practically dove against Sirius' chest, burrowing into the folds of his shirt and mumbling so that only Sirius could hear. The man pressed a kiss to Potter's head and mumbled back, before easing Potter back on the sofa and ruffling his hair. "Be a good boy, pup."

"I'm always good!"

Sirius grinned, lingering for a moment longer, before finally standing up and stretching his back. Turning to the three teenagers he furrowed his brow. "If there's any issues, send a patronus out into the garden. It's how we used to take shifts with Remus during school." Casting one last look at Potter digging into his chicken nuggets, his shoulders sagged. "Try not to keep him up too late," was all he said, before he left the room. His footsteps echoed down the hall towards the back door. It opened and closed and then there was silence.

It stretched on, thick and heavy, while Potter made as much noise as possible eating by himself. It was Hermione who stepped in and broke the awkwardness; "Shall we put a movie on, Harry?"

"Yes please!"

"Which one would you like? Do you want to watch a Disney film?" He nodded, his cheeks swollen with half-chewed beans. "What's your favourite?"

"Winnie the Pooh!"

Draco watched, unable to hide his fascination, as Hermione hunted around for a strange flat shiny object and slotted it into a space below the television. Weasley was frowning, although he didn't look as confused as Draco felt.

'Ah that's right,' Draco thought. 'His father works with muggle rubbish in the Ministry.'

Although, even he had to admit that not all muggle technology was rubbish or bad. Manual light switches? Dreadful and an absurd waste of time! Movies that you could rewind and play back without feeling nauseated? Genius! Not that he would ever admit it to anyone.

Potter crawled up onto the sofa, wedging himself on Hermione's other wise. Weasley draped an arm around the shoulders of his girlfriend. Draco watched with a twisting inside his chest; it looked ever so cosy and familial and couldn't help but wonder what his life would be like if he had friends who cared enough. Potter's clearly cared. As the 'movie' began, Draco tried to leave as stealthily as possible. Potter's head spun around and his eyes went wide.

"Draco where're you going?"

"To my room."

"No! It just started!" the brat whined.

Hermione and Weasley glanced up at him, watching him for his reaction. He didn't have any fight left in him. "Fine. Mind if I join?" he directed his glare at the couple, half-heartedly daring them to object. Weasley rolled his eyes, but Hermione shifted further into his chest and wriggled Potter along with her.

Potter beamed up at him as he settled into the tight space between Potter and the armrest. "Can you see?" he cocked an eyebrow at the toddler, who continued to smile up at him, his head leaning sideways to rest on Draco's shoulder.

"Yeah I can."

"Good."

Leaning back a little, just in case, Draco turned his attention to the movie. He couldn't understand the relevance of the fat yellow bear or what the obsession with honey was -and yes the grammatical errors made him want to burn his eyes out -but it had a innocent little charm to it. It almost made him long for his stuffed dragon that he had when he was a child.

 

 

By the end of the movie, Potter was still leaning lazily against him but he was fast asleep, his jaw slack and his head tilted at an awkward angle.

"Oh dear, I hadn't realised he'd nodded off," Hermione whispered, keeping her voice low. "Do you want us to help you put him to bed?"

"No it's alright. I'm sure I can manage."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, before smiling and nodding. "Okay, we'll use the floo once you've taken him up. Don't want to risk waking him."

Draco gave them both an awkward nod before turning his attention to Potter. It was a bit of a struggle lifting the toddler up and he wasn't sure how he managed it, but soon he was clutching the puny Potter against his chest, his arms and legs wrapped loosely around Draco for support. He staggered to the top of the staircase and was just about to walk into Potter's bedroom when he heard the distant sound of the floo, indicating that the other two had left.

He supposed it hadn't been a dreadful evening, just awkward.

Potter settled down into his kid-sized bed with ease, the safety rail magically sliding up into place as soon as his head touched the pillow. He leaned over and made sure Hootie was near enough for Potter to cuddle with during the night. The curtains were open, letting the pale moonlight shine in, illuminating just how small and frail Potter was as a child.

Yet, he'd defeated the Dark Lord whilst in nappies. It was incredible.

A flicker of movement from the garden below caught Draco's eye. Leaning over to the window, he pressed his hands against the glass and peered out; bathed in the moonlight, a larger than life grey werewolf loped around the garden, it's long, skinny limbs moving seamlessly as it was chased by a shaggy black dog less than half its size. They snapped their jaws playfully at each other, the dog jumping up and over the wolf, and even took turns into submitting, their paws in the air, before immediately returning to their game.

Draco had never seen a werewolf be  _playful_  before. One little potion did that? One potion was the difference between a blood-sucking monster like Greyback and a docile creature as Remus?

Potter turned in his sleep, grasping out for Hootie and whimpering a little. Draco passed the toy to the toddler, hesitated, and then gently stroked his hair until the little crease between Harry's brows smoothed out.

"You're safe here, Potter," he murmured, his eyes glancing out the window to see the dog lean up on its hind legs to lick at the wolf's muzzle. "You're safe here with us. I promise."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it?! Course you did!


	16. Chapter 15: October

**Chapter Fifteen**

 

_~ October ~_

 

 

Turning four was a big deal for Harry.

He was now tall enough to not need a booster seat at the table and only needed a small step ladder to reach over the bathroom sink to brush his teeth properly. He was allowed to stay up a whole fifteen minutes later! Who knew there was such a time beyond 7pm!

It was also October which, according to Daddy and Remmy, would mean that he got to dress up and go trick-or-treating! He didn't really understand it, but he was promised sweets and he liked sweets. Remmy said it would ruin his teeth but he'd argued that he had more than ten more teeth so losing one wasn't really a big problem. It wasn't until the very last day of the month, anyway, which meant there was plenty of time to prepare!

 

 

 

The world outside was getting cooler, the nights longer, and despite all the magic the two men -and the house itself -possessed, Draco still felt his skin bubble with goosepimples whenever he left any room. The hallways were always the gloomiest parts of the house, anyway, he just hadn't realised how cold it'd get. He had considered asking Sirius to light a fire in his room, the one right by his bed, however he didn't want to seem so inept. Muggles knew how to light fires, right? He hadn't dreamed that? Well then surely he could figure something out as well.

He was lucky to find Remus in the lounge, cradling a gurgling Teddy against his chest, whilst Potter played with a train set on the plush carpet.

He knocked gently on the door, not wanting to disturb Teddy.

"Oh, hello Draco," Remus smiled wanly, his tone hushed as he rocked his son. "What can I do for you?"

Closing the door behind him, he sat on the opposite end of the sofa as Remus continued to rock. Potter made small 'choo-choo' noises as he raced the train through the carpet. "Um ..." he tried to keep his mind focused, "I was wondering if there were any books about muggle ways?" Merlin, he felt like a traitor to magic just uttering those words!

"Well what exactly do you want to know?" Remus asked.

"I don't even know how to light a fire," Draco felt himself flush with embarrassment. "It's getting colder now and I can't exactly call on you or Sirius whenever I need a heating charm cast."

Remus chuckled, "I can show you some things. If you like we can pop to the local supermarket and grab a few things."

Draco scrunched up his nose. "Why?"

"You want some things to help. We should be able to get it all in the same place. Why don't you write down a list of things you want to learn or need help with and I'll get these two ready." Potter glanced up as Remus stood. His green eyes landed on Draco and he smiled shyly, ducking his head to focus on his trains. "Come on, Harry, we need to get our warm jumpers on."

"Why?"

"Because we're going outside. Draco needs to buy some things and we're going to help him."

This answer seemed to satisfy Potter. He abandoned his train set and hurried to catch up with Remus. Draco watched them go, trying not to clench his jaw when Potter turned and smiled with a wave. Glancing down at the train set, he sighed, imagining Sirius didn't want to stumble out of the floo at the end of the day, with a caboose lodged in his foot. It still irked him that he had to do such mundane things, like packing a train set away by hand. Usually, it'd be a simple flick of the wand and then he could write an actual list and still have time to spare before Remus returned with the two brats in tow.

Within ten minutes, the sound of hurried footsteps clambered down the stairs.

"Draco! Are you ready! Remus says we have to go NOW!"

Draco almost smirked at Potter's antics. Now that he was officially a child and not just a bumbling lump, he didn't seem keen to leave Draco alone for long. Said kid was already in a jumper, jacket and trainers. Sirius had come up with a rather genius idea of simply resizing Potter's shoes and jeans. It didn't stop the man from going out at least once a week in his spare time, to pick up a book or a piece of clothing he thought Potter would like.

Draco sighed, "Alright, let me grab my coat."

Stepping into the hallway and snatching his jacket off the hat stand, Remus came down the steps with Teddy strapped to his chest. At Draco's quizzical look, he merely shrugged. "It's easier than dragging a bulky pram all over the place. I never have the patience for those things."

"A ... pram?"

"A muggle device that mother's use to wheel their children around in. It also doubles as a shopping trolley apparently."

Draco was even more confused. He didn't press the issue though. If it had to do with children, it didn't have anything to do with him, so he need not concern himself with it.

"Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Me too!" Potter chimed.

Walking out of the wards of Grimmauld place always made Draco's insides convulse. It would always feel that way until he regained access to his magic. He trailed a few steps behind Remus, hands in his pockets. They came to a stop at the main road, waiting for the 'Green Man' to appear. Draco had come to understand it was a light, not an actual person. He'd been a little disappointed that a man dressed all in green didn't help muggles safely from one side of the road to the other.

"Draco!" He glanced down at Potter's stage whisper. "You have to hold my hand."

His stomach lurched. "What?"

"To cross the road. Daddy says it isn't safe to cross the road unless we hold hands."

Ah, yes. Draco had remembered that conversation. It was right after Potter had chased after a dog he wanted to pet. Said dog and owners were crossing the road. Luckily, Sirius had got to him just in time. The scolding was impressive, and Draco had quite the experience with angry fathers. Potter had sniveled and cried and had been sent to bed without a bedtime story. Draco had heard his sniffling down the hall. He'd almost gotten the temptation to go into the brat's room and read him a bloody story just so he could get some sleep.

A myriad of emotions had stopped him.

"Draco, we have to go now!" Without waiting for an answer, Potter grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him towards the edge of the pavement. Sure enough the green man was flashing, so Draco hurried to catch up with Remus, making sure to keep his strides just long enough so that he wasn't forcing Potter to eat tarmac.

Once safely on the other side, Draco bent down and glowered at the child, "Don't you ever do that again, do you hear me? You do not run out in front of those things!"

Potter's bottom lip wobbled, his large green eyes almost making Draco's anger subside.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, coming back to place a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Potter dragged me into the road without waiting."

Remus twisted his mouth into a frown, "That is very dangerous, Harry. You or Draco might have been hurt. You don't want to get hurt do you?"

Silently, the kid shook his head.

"You have to wait for the green man."

"I did!" Potter protested. "It was green! I saw it!"

"It doesn't matter," Remus said calmly. "Draco is the adult, so you have to let him go first. If you get into trouble, he can help protect you from the cars, okay?" Potter nodded, his chin drooping downwards. "Good. Now I want you to hold onto Draco's hand for the rest of the afternoon, okay? I don't want you running off again."

As they walked along down the street, bypassing numerous shop-fronts that boasted amazing sales and cheesy halloween decorations, Draco allowed himself to feel smug. Potter had gotten reprimanded for actually doing something wrong. Now, as punishment, he needed to be treated like the kid he was. It made him feel minutely uncomfortable that he was the one who had to keep Potter from running off on his own again, however he told himself that's what winning felt like; being in control of the situation and getting to feel good about it.

 

 

 

 

Draco didn't know what a 'Sainsbury's was and he didn't know why they needed to go into one. It was garishly orange on the outside and seemed over-crowded inside; it was the building equivalent of a Weasley. The thought made him shudder as Remus lifted Potter up and slotted him into the seat of the large metal trolley. Potter still looked like he was sulking, however his eyes did start to wonder over the numerous, brightly coloured packages lining the aisles.

Remus guided them along towards the homeware department, his amber eyes on the look-out for whatever muggle appliance Draco required.

"These should make you feel more at home if you like," he said, taking a wrapped pack of candles in one hand. "However, you do have a muggle lamp on your side table. All you need is some new bulbs."

Draco nodded mutely, his eyes reading words that he didn't fully understand.

"Which do you think you'd prefer to light the candles; a box of matches or a lighter?" Draco shrugged. "I suppose matches are better since you can also use it to light your fire. I'll get you the long ones, though, just in case."

Into the trolley they went.

"I'm going to grab you some batteries and a torch as well, it'll help you practice to change them when they stop working," Remus trailed off, biting his lip in thought as he scanned the shelves above his head. "Oh here we are!"

He reached up and snagged a small box off the shelf before holding it out for Draco to inspect. It read 'hand-held whisk' on the front, with a picture of what Draco assumed was said whisk. He wrinkled his nose, "Why do I need a whisk? I already have hands, I don't need a machine to do it for me."

"True, but this machine does all the beating ten times as fast as you or I could do. Even with magic, it takes a certain skill to get to this speed. It comes in handy."

Draco wasn't entirely convinced, but dropped the box into the trolley anyway. It's not like he was wasting his money, so who cared?

"Now, it is coming up to Halloween, why don't we see if they have any costumes, hm?"

"Costumes?" Potter chimed, his head whipped around to try and find them.

Remus chuckled and continued to pass down the aisles. Draco glanced at a few items on the shelves but nothing really jumped out at him until ...

"Hey Remus, what's this?" he held out a strange, square-ish fuzzy seal with large blue eyes. There was something stiff and wobbly inside.

"Let's see," Remus took the fluffy seal and felt around the fur. "Oh, it's a hot water bottle."

"Why does it look like that?"

"Muggles like cute covers for things like water bottles," Remus shrugged. "The real challenge for you, though, would be filling it with hot water from the kettle." Draco nodded mutely, gingerly placing the hot water bottle back on the shelf. He didn't need anything like that just yet. He needed to get used to lighting the fire first.

Remus moved the trolley around a few more hours, stopping to gloss over the books in the media section, before heading on down towards the clothing aisle, where tons of black and orange costumes were sealed in packets hanging alongside weird, plastic pumpkins. They seemed to grin down at him menacingly. Eyeing one of the crude costumes, Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Why exactly do muggles bother dressing up?" he asked. "They can't get much enjoyment out of it."

"The kids usually do," Remus chuckled. "The parents take them door-to-door trick-or-treating. That's when they knock on the door and get free sweets," he added at Draco's puzzled expression. "I went a few times, before I got bitten. After that no one wanted to go with me in case it was a full moon on Halloween and it'd be like a horror movie."

Feeling the overwhelming urge to hug the man, Draco fingered a fake, hollow skeleton. "Was it ... lonely?"

"Yes, terribly so." He sighed, "My first year at Hogwarts, James and Sirius insisted that we dress-up for halloween. No one else did and thought we were all barking mad, but it made me feel so happy." He gave a wistful smile, "It really is the little things."

"Hmmm. Were you planning on doing anything thing year?"

"For Halloween?"

Draco nodded.

"I'm not really sure. With the war finally over, and ... everything ... I wasn't sure that anyone would be up for it." The large amber eyes appeared especially shiny. "Tonks used to love any excuse to morph into something else. I'm sure she wished every day was halloween just so she could dress as a duck."

Draco felt his mouth twitch into an almost-smile. "Did Potter ever do anything like trickle treating?"

"Trick  _or_  treating."

"Whatever."

"Not that I recall," Remus frowned. "He was barely allowed to celebrate his birthday, so I doubt halloween was on the cards for him either."

Draco frowned at that. His eyes kept straying back to the costumes. "I never did this sort of thing either. My parents would host a Hallows Eve ball at the manor. We didn't really dress up in costumes, just our best dress robes with maybe a fancy mask on top."

"Sounds fun," Remus remarked dryly. "I can almost guarantee you hid under the tables until you had a growth spurt."

Draco's shoulders hunched around his ears, his cheeks hot and pink. "That obvious am I?"

"No," Remus chuckled, "I'd have done the same." Glancing down at the trolley, Remus sighed and raked a hand through his already shaggy hair. "Let's buy this lot and then get some practice in before Sirius gets home. We're going to use the oven tonight."

Draco blanched. "Do we have to?"

"You won't learn if you don't try it out," Remus said, wheeling the trolley towards the cashiers. "Besides, the oven does most of the work, you just need to keep an eye on the time. A little like potions!"

"Please don't compare cooking to potions," Draco groused quietly. "If that were true, Potter should excel in both, not just one."

"Who says Harry's a good cook?"

Draco shrugged. He wasn't about to admit to any of the rumours he'd heard. That sort of talk had gotten him into a fair bit of trouble. They lapsed into silence as Remus loaded everything onto the conveyor belt. Draco waited patiently at the other end as Remus paid with a plastic card and packed everything into bags. With a bag each, and Teddy fussing in his harness, the foursome trekked back along to Grimmauld place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took another five days before Draco was bold enough to ask for help in lighting matches. He'd tried, the logic behind it was so simple, but somehow the matches would spark but not catch alight. Remus was teaching that week and that left Sirius in charge of the kids. Draco had been reading a new potions textbook in the lounge, keeping one eye on Potter as he doodled and coloured on numerous sheets of paper. He was a quiet kid, easily pleased and happy to be by himself. There were moment where Draco was tempted to indulge the brat and play games or watch movies, but the idea that any of this would stick in Potter's head when he got older was gnawing at him.

Making sure that Potter was okay on his own for a little while, Draco stood up, cracked his back, and made his way towards the garden. Sirius had said he'd be working out in the shed, and Draco hadn't thought to question what his cousin would be up to.

The sky was overcast, a cool wind clawing at Draco's jumper as he crossed the garden towards the shed that led out onto the back road. The door was ajar, the sound of metal-on-metal coming from inside. Something clanged loudly, making him jump, and a string of curse words came out. Reaching for the door, he knocked and waited. Sirius' head popped out a moment later; he was dressed in a threadbare top and muggle jeans, holes, and black smudges stained the fabric and his forearms. He cocked an eyebrow at Draco as he wiped his hands on a filthy rag, "You okay?" he asked.

"I was going to ask you a favour," Draco hedged. "Muggle stuff. But I don't want to disturb you."

Sirius glanced over his shoulder and grunted, "I could use a break. Let's get some tea. If I have to look at that thing for another minute, I'll hex it." He tossed the rag over his shoulder into the shed, and starting striding to the back door.

Draco glanced into the shed and frowned; a large, black and silver monstrosity sat inside. It had large rubber wheels and it was like those strange vehicles that went speeding through muggle London, only this one looked older, somehow. More classic. There was a rusting pale blue vehicle nestled alongside it, with only two wheels and a small visor at the front. With so many questions buzzing in his head, Draco ran back into the house to find Sirius in the kitchen.

"What were you doing in the shed?" he asked as he took one of the steaming mugs from Sirius.

"Trying to fix my bike; it's older than you and it needs adjustments every so often. Although, I think I may need to take it into a garage, there's no way I can replace all those gears myself. Not whilst teaching anyway."

Draco couldn't deny his surprise. "You ride that thing?"

"Sure do. It flies too."

"Wow ..." Even he couldn't deny how fucking cool that was. "Shit! It's older than me?"

"Yup. Had that thing since before I could legally drive it. Took years to modify it to be able to fly. Lily used to be so scared that I'd crash it, but I JUST LOVED proving that girl wrong."

"Did it worry Remus, too?"

"Everything worries Remus," Sirius chuckled. "The man's had grey hair ever since I've known him."

"Did he ever get on the back of that bike?"

Sirius smirked, "A few times. He hates the thing. Drives him mad when I go out for a ride to blow off some steam." Draco smiled a little. "Harry's been on that bike a few times too."

"Oh?"

"Once when he was a baby. The second time in the summer of your ... seventh year? Trying to escape some Death Eaters."

Draco blanched, his insides suddenly wanted to reject the tea he'd drank. "Why was he on it when he was a baby?"

Sirius' eyes looked misty for a moment. He swallowed, the temperature in the room seeming to drop. "It was the night they died. I wasn't able to get to them in time. I was ... I was devastated. Their house was destroyed. The wall had fallen in and the stink of dark magic hung in the air. The door was open and I was so scared at what I'd find."

A shiver passed through both men. Draco clenched his mug tighter.

"I had to pick my way through rubble. James, my best friend, was strewn on the stairs like a ragdoll. I froze, I wasn't thinking. Then I heard Harry crying. Draco," he looked up into his cousin's eyes. "In that moment, those screechy wails were the most precious sound I'd ever heard in my life."

Draco's throat felt thick. He felt cold all over but he was eager to hear more.

"I almost tripped over Lily when I ran into the nursery. The whole front wall had been blown away and it was cold. I wanted to hug her, try and wake her up. I couldn't believe two of my best friends were dead," he raked a quaking hand through his hair. "Those screams cut through me. Harry was screaming his lungs out, crying and making himself sick. His head was cut open, I thought some tiles or shrapnel had cut him. I didn't realise it was the scar then. He was looking right at her! I had to take him away."

Images flashed in Draco's mind; he could picture it all so clearly, from the tales and rumours that had been thrown around. It made him feel sickly though, that if Sirius hadn't been there, what would have happened to Potter? Would Voldemort's followers have come to finish him off? Realising that Sirius was lost in his memories, Draco reached out and placed a tentative hand on his forearm. "You got Potter out of there. You got him safe."

Sirius twitched a smile, "I did what I could. Wrapped him up in a blanket, hid his face and hurried him outside. I was just settling onto my motorbike when Hagrid came."

"Hagrid?!" Draco exploded. "What the hell was he doing there?"

"Dumbledore had sent him. For Harry." There was a bitter edge to Sirius' voice. "He said that due to the blood magic of Lily's sister, Harry was safer living in the muggle world."

Draco snorted. "Even I know that's a load of bullshit."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Hagrid and I argued for ages, which sucked because he's a good bloke. I didn't want to let Harry go. In the end I gave Hagrid the only thing I could, in the hope that it would one day belong to Harry. I let him have my bike so he could take Harry as far away from everything as possible."

They lapsed into silence. The tea was almost cold now, but Draco downed it anyway.

"Is that when you went after Pettigrew?"

Sirius nodded. "Almost immediately. The bastard was PLEASED! It made my insides sick; all that control I thought I'd mastered snapped inside me. I went for him, tried to strangle him to death with my bare hands. The bastard was insane. Laughed at me. Managed to grab his wand and murdered the muggles on the street around us. They'd been trying to stop us from fighting and that's all it took. Instead of killing me and ending it, he decided to make me suffer. For twelve years in that icy Hell. He literally got away with murder. Twice."

"He eventually got what was coming to him," Draco placated. "And it wasn't like he was treated that well in the inner circle either."

Sirius stated at Draco with a strange expression. "Good," was all he said.

Draco rinsed his mug out and set it to one side, noting how dim the light was getting outside.

"Oh Merlin, I haven't thought about that night in a long time," Sirius sighed, rubbing his hands roughly down his face. "October is just the worst month for everything."

"They were killed on Halloween weren't they?"

Sirius nodded.

Draco frowned, thinking about the usual traditions at Hogwarts with the feasts and the decorations and the awful halloween songs from the school choir. "Potter won't remember until he's a little older, will he?"

"No, probably not."

Fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, Draco looked over at his cousin, "What about if we did something for Potter on halloween? Like, the trickie treating the kids do? Remus said it's a muggle tradition?"

"Trick or treating," Sirius corrected a small smile tweaking his lips. "I'm surprised you're even suggesting it. Are you sure this isn't an excuse for you to get your own costume?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Draco scoffed, "Don't be absurd. I don't give a toss one way or the other. However, if Potter wanted to dress up and go around begging for sweets, who are we to stop him?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, "Sure, Draco, whatever you say."

"DADDY! DRACO! Look what I drew!"

Potter's shrill little voice broke the atmosphere between them as he hobbled down the steps into the kitchen, waving a thick sheaf of papers in his hands.

"What do you have there, pup?" Sirius asked, scooping the child up and propping him on the table, his little legs swinging to and fro over the edge. Sirius took the papers eagerly thrust at him, beaming happily. "Oh wow! These are amazing! Draco look at these!"

Draco glanced down at the pictures and tried his hardest not to be a snob; while the strange man with tons of facial hair and a comical moustache was clearly Sirius and the round circle with blue hair and a big mouth was baby Teddy, Draco really didn't think his hair looked sunshine yellow. If anything it was white-blonde, not the colour of the tub of butter. Then there was the Remus drawing. It was just a misshapen scribble with big pointy teeth.

"Why did you draw Remus like this?" he asked, showing Potter the scribble.

"Because Daddy says that Remmy is a big wolf sometimes, but it's okay because he won't eat me."

"That's right, Remus won't eat you. He doesn't eat little kids for breakfast!" Sirius grinned, tickling Potter as he hugged him close. He shifted to another picture. "Oh, what's this one?"

Draco glanced at the picture. It was of the Potter blob asleep and the Draco stick figure reading a square he assumed was meant to be a book. "It's almost like the real thing," he drawled before he could stop himself.

Sirius smirked. "I'd like to see your drawings, kid."

Draco pulled a face. Sirius continued shuffling through the pictures ooh-ing and ahh-ing in all the right places. It was only when he fell silent, that Draco turned back to look with a raised eyebrow. His stomach dropped at Sirius' expression as he stared down at the last two images in the stack. Catching Draco's eye, he turned the pictures so that the teen could see. He wished he hadn't; one showed the Potter blob crying large blue tears with a fat man with a big blonde moustache and a red face raising his hand. There was a red hand print drawn onto the Potter blob's face.

The second one was of a building with a larger than life Potter blob sitting on top, a sad expression drawn on. A fat blonde boy with angry eyes and a big grin was 'looking up' at him from the ground and laughing. The word 'SCHOL' was scribbled on the front of the brown building.

Turning so that he was more eye-level with Potter, Sirius held up the pictures. "Harry, love, why did you draw these?"

Potter shrugged, his legs stilling. He looked as though he couldn't decide if he was in trouble or not. "I thought this happened so I drew it."

Glancing at Draco, Sirius pointed to the fat man. "Is that your uncle?"

Potter said nothing.

"You're not in trouble," Sirius assured him. "Did he do bad things to you?"

Potter said nothing but slowly nodded his head, his hands twisting and knotting themselves together. Draco felt bile burn at the back of his throat.

"Harry, love ... Did they hit you?"

"I don't remember. It was in my head, so I drew it."

"Did they call you names in your head?" Sirius pressed gently.

Potter looked away, sticking out his bottom lip. He was going to cry. Draco could sense it with the way his green eyes shone and his bottom lip wobbled.

"Don't you want to tell Sirius what's wrong, P -um -Harry?" Draco cringed.

Potter glanced at him with those eyes. "I don't want them to find out they call me a -"

"A what, Harry?" Sirius asked. "What bad things do they say?"

"That I'm bad."

"Oh, Harry!" The heartbreak was evident in Sirius' voice. He so desperately wanted to pull the kid to his chest and just hold him until all the hurt in the world bled out of him. "Sweetheart, you're not bad. You're a very good boy."

"If I'm not bad, then -then -then why do they say I'm a freak?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you didn't miss me too much! Please leave my boys lots of love! <3


End file.
